


before we knew

by falsegoodnight



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, M/M, Medium Dom/Sub, Pining Louis, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stubborn Harry, filthy smut, full smut tags in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsegoodnight/pseuds/falsegoodnight
Summary: “C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.-Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
Relationships: Gigi Hadid/Zayn Malik, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 190
Kudos: 1648
Collections: READD BOOKS





	before we knew

**Author's Note:**

> full smut tags: dom harry, sub louis, anal sex, anal fingering, face fucking, rimming, rough sex, unsafe sex (1 of 2 scenes), wall sex, brief CMNM fascination, finger sucking, choking/gagging, spitting, spanking, brief fish hooking, daddy kink, cockwarming(?), manhandling, subspace, louis in panties, dirty talk, slight degradation (use of the word slut!!), other stuff… Now that I’m reading it through, this is the filthiest smut I’ve posted… so far. Louis definitely has a thing for hands too, so… hand kink?  
> Also there’s no kink negotiation/discussion whatsoever because soulmates already have matching kink preferences (yes that is an excuse to not have to write negotiation, so what?)
> 
> I have always loved the soulmate concept especially when people try to resist it so writing a fic about it only seemed logical. Harry and Louis are born in the same year in this au, so Harry’s 11 months older. This doesn’t match their ages in the fic post pictures but that’s beside the point. There's probably a bunch of inaccuracies about human rights attorneys (though I did do my research!) and case notes as well as vague, probably inaccurate descriptions of publishing agencies and editing offices so suspend your disbelief. Despite that, I really enjoyed writing this story and I hope you enjoy too xx
> 
> Also, the prompt for this story is from my wonderful friend and beta, [Jem](cheershalo.tumblr.com). Thanks for always supporting me and cheering me on and thank you for this amazing idea :)

_-_

_“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.”_

\-- MAYA ANGELOU 

-

Louis bites his lip, shamelessly ogling the man currently seated at his own office diagonally across from his. As their publishing agency is pretty small and more local, they only have one large open floor plan with about eight open offices set up for editors. Louis doesn’t mind it since he likes the encouraged camaraderie it promotes. Not to mention how it makes it easy for him to admire fellow coworkers, specifically one coworker.

Said coworker is concentrated on his own manuscript, scrolling and occasionally pausing to write down some notes or make an edit. Simple movements yet they entrance Louis like they always do and always have since he started working at the firm two years ago and first met his sexy coworker who immediately caught his eye. 

His eyes trace over the man’s broad back and big biceps, shivering a little. He shakes his head in wonder- how can someone be this attractive?

He sneaks another quick (longing) glance before sighing and turning back to his laptop. He’s supposed to be editing his own assigned manuscript. It’s a lit fic, the third one he’s done in a row and he’s getting kind of tired of them. 

At least this novel has better prose than the previous one. Much less for him to sift through which means much less of a headache to read and edit. 

He pauses to take a sip of his usual Yorkshire tea that the intern, Maisy, brought for him a couple of minutes ago. She’s a sweet girl and she always makes Louis’ tea just right so he’s extra careful to be gracious when he sees her. 

By the time lunch rolls around, he’s managed to get through another three chapters, a full page of extra notes made on a sheet of paper in front of him. He unpacks his homemade lasagna and eats quietly, slumping back in his chair. 

Some of his coworkers call out greetings as they leave the building to go out and eat and he chats for a little bit with Jem, one of the newer recruits before she leaves too and he’s alone. 

He doesn’t always stay at the office to eat- in fact, he used to go out for lunch every day with the others or with Zayn if he’s free at the same time, but… 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spies someone getting up from their spot and stretching a little bit. He smiles a little bit. There is definitely a reason he’s now started staying at the office to eat. He waits a second before carefully getting up to subtly follow as the man of his affections heads to the break room. He grabs his empty tea mug too, aka his usual excuse. 

When Louis enters, he’s already there- making coffee in the beloved company coffee maker. 

He stops to let his eyes wander over the man’s outfit: a nice button up and slacks that show off his tall frame and lean build excellently. Louis swallows. He’s so hot, for fuck’s sake. 

Shaking himself out of it, he carefully approaches the counter, fumbling around for the tea packets and trying to appear blase and natural. He messes with his fringe, not wanting to appear anything less than put-together. His heart races. 

As per usual, it only takes a few seconds for him to be detected. 

“Hey, Louis,” says his future husband, smiling as he glances over at him. Louis’ heart flutters like it always does when he hears his name spoken aloud in that delectable accent. 

“Hey, Luke,” he says, flashing him a smile. He hopes it doesn’t come out as breathless as he feels. “Good day so far?”

“Yeah, ‘m reading a good one right now,” says Luke with a small shrug. He grabs his finished cup of coffee, sends Louis another smile, before backing away. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Louis calls out but he’s already gone. 

He finishes making his tea in silence, a dopey smile on his face as he grasps his mug with two small hands. Two years and this is the extent of their daily interaction, yet Louis wouldn’t miss it for anything. He’s pathetic, he knows. 

_One day,_ he thinks. 

One day Luke will be hit with the same heart flutters Louis feels every time he looks at the other man. One day Luke will notice him beyond friendly small talk and get interested. One day. 

He makes his way back to his office, casting a fleeting glance at Luke who has returned to his desk and is back to work editing a page. One day. 

But not today. 

-

“Louis,” says Zayn as he enters the kitchen. There’s a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion in his voice. The latter is what ultimately prompts Louis into meeting the eyes of his best mate.

“Yes?” he asks innocently, morphing his face into the picture of nonchalance with a hint of confusion for good measure. He adjusts his glasses casually and smiles. “Everything alright Z?”

Zayn just crosses his arms. He’s leaning against the wall looking like some sort of model with his perfectly styled dark hair and brooding face. He’s not actually brooding- he’s just got a ‘resting angst face’ as younger Louis had dubbed it. “Did you read my text?” he asks. There’s an edge in his voice. 

Louis shifts a bit in his seat, trying to be subtle but failing when the distinct sound of the chair creaking cuts through the air. He winces. “What text?” he asks, feigning bewilderment. It’s a lost cause, however, because Zayn lunges for his phone which is inconveniently abandoned on the table across from Louis. 

“Fuck you,” he says as Zayn shoots him an unimpressed look. He turns the phone to show it to Louis, gesturing to it like he’s a TV show host. _Look here folks, a state of the art lie, manufactured by local sculptor Louis Tomlinson, professional bluffer and bullshitter!_

“No messages,” he says after a beat. As if it weren’t already glaringly obvious. Louis huffs. 

“So I read your message, guess I didn’t find it significant,” says Louis breezily, taking another sip from his tea. 

Zayn snorts. “Louis. This is your soulmate we’re talking about.”

Louis flinches but masks it with a dismissive shrug. His skin prickles with apprehension. “Yes, and?”

“Louis,” says Zayn again, beseechingly with a pinch of frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Consider what?”

Zayn rolls his eyes, plopping down into the seat next to Louis’. He kicks out a foot and nudges the leg of Louis’ chair, making him jolt along with his flimsy crafted calm. 

“Watch it,” he hisses. 

Zayn just stares at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“I’m an enigma. Lesser beings will never understand me,” Louis quips jokingly. “Hey, how’s Gigi doing?”

“Don't try and change the subject, Tomlinson-”

“Is she all set up with her new flatmates?” Louis continues, even going as far as to mess with his fringe a bit. 

“Louis, I swear to god,” says Zayn exasperatedly. “Why don’t you want to meet your soulmate?”

Louis groans. “We’ve had this discussion. Many times. Literally last week. Can we please forget about it like we always do?”

“Well normally I’d let you get away with your half-assed answers but this is different,” Zayn insists. “I saw him Lou, I saw your soulmate.”

Something twists in his gut but Louis pushes it down. “I don’t care,” he declares. 

“You most certainly do, you fucking liar.”

“I don’t,” Louis retorts, only a little bit petulantly. “Besides, how do you even know you really saw him? You're probably making shit up and it was really some dude with a different soul mark who’s probably already with their soulmate just like everyone in this damn country.”

“First of all, there’s plenty of people who haven’t met their soulmate. And second, it _was_ him,” says Zayn, with absolute confidence. There isn’t a shred of doubt in his voice that betrays him. Louis wills his heartbeat to slow down. _What if- No._ He’s not playing this game. “It was at-”

“Well I don’t care,” Louis interrupts before Zayn could explain any further. He doesn’t want to know more than he already does. “Now back to Gigi-”

“Don’t you at least want to know what he looks like?” asks Zayn. 

“Nope,” says Louis, gritting his teeth. “Can we please change the subject?”

And of course, because his best friend is a fucking asshole, he continues to describe his supposed soulmate. “He’s exactly your type. Taller than you, broad, dark curly hair, and dimples too,” says Zayn. Dimples? No. It doesn’t matter. Louis doesn’t care. “I think he’s got, like, green eyes too.”

Louis scoffs. Green eyes are incredibly rare- he’s never met someone with genuine green eyes. Louis refuses to acknowledge their existence. “Anything else you want to mention. What exactly about this person makes him my perfect match?”

“That’s a stupid question. Obviously, you can’t know that unless you actually fucking talk to him,” says Zayn. “I literally cannot comprehend why you aren't excited about this. Soulmates are literally made for you- there’s no one on this planet who’ll understand you or get along with better more than them, which in your case means this guy is better equipped to take care of a witty but stubborn as fuck drama queen slash brat than anyone you could ever date.”

Louis scowls. “Bullshit. Also, _rude_.” 

He pointedly turns away from Zayn and takes another sip of his tea, grabbing his phone from where Zayn had left it on the table and making a big show of how he’s not paying any attention as he scrolls through Twitter. 

“Drama queen,” Zayn mutters. 

Louis doesn’t answer. 

“I bet he could easily pick you up too,” says Zayn lightly. 

Louis sputters, dropping his phone. “What does that have to do with anything?”

His friend rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like we’ve been friends for eight years and I don’t know what you get off on.”

“I do not get off on guys manhandling me,” Louis denies pettily, huffing. He’s lying for the sake of being a brat and they both know it. “Why do you pay attention to what turns me on anyway, anything to confess, Zaynie?”

He’s joking. The idea that Zayn has romantic or sexual feelings for him beyond acknowledging his out-of-this-world arse is honestly laughable. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. Predictable. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh my god, stop flirting with me!” Louis exclaims, wrinkling his nose.

“Brat,” Zayn sing-songs. 

“Bet that turns you on,” says Louis sassily, batting his eyelashes for good measure. 

“Disgusting.”

“Whatever you say,” Louis sings right back. 

“C’mon, Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles. 

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it. 

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate. He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples. 

“I’m not curious,” he denies, subconsciously scratching at the soft material of his sweater which is, of course, located over said soulmark. God, he wonders where his name is- 

Nope. No, he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t care. 

“Uh huh,” says Zayn. “Sure, Lou.”

Louis glares at his cup of tea. “I don’t.”

“I totally believe you,” Zayn continues, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I will say that he was-”

“No, shut up!” Louis exclaims, sounding almost half-crazed as he turns to hold eye contact. “Don’t. _Please,_ Zayn.” He can’t help but let some of his desperation bleed through, internally begging Zayn to drop it. 

With a sigh, Zayn gives in. He’s never one to pressure Louis into talking or doing something he is irrevocably determined not to do. 

Well, that’s what Louis assumed but then the idiot opens his mouth again. “Is this about Luke?”

Louis tenses, turning to give Zayn the evil eye. His treacherous heart betrays him by pounding. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You don’t even know the guy,” says Zayn incredulously. 

“I do too!” Louis defends, eyes wide. “He’s perfect!”

“Not as perfect for you as your soulmate,” Zayn points out. 

Louis groans, rolling his eyes. Everyone always says that yet it seems so impossible. “Just shut up about it, alright?”

“Whatever you say, Lou,” says Zayn tiredly. “I just hope you don’t regret it in the future.”

“I won’t,” Louis swears. He sends a pointed look to the small glimpse of Zayn’s own soulmark peeking out from the small patch of skin exposed by his slightly unbuttoned shirt. All that’s currently showing is the ‘ena Hadi’ but close enough. “I know you and Gigi are happy but not every soulmate pair ends up together, and plenty of them are happier with other people.” Everyone always tells him he’ll change his mind when he meets his own soulmate, but Louis is sure that’s not the case. 

“Yeah but-”

“No arguing with me,” Louis interrupts. He can’t handle much more of this conversation. “Let’s watch something.” 

“Okay, geez.”

Louis reaches over to pat his bicep in thanks. Smirking, he squeezes a little bit. “Just a few more trips to the gym Zaynie and you’ll be able to pick me up too!” he chirps. 

Zayn groans, undoubtedly thinking about how much he really can’t stand Louis. 

-

“I really can’t stand Zayn,” says Louis as Perrie hands him a pastry. 

“You’re such a liar,” says his friend fondly. They’re out at a small cafe having their usual Friday brunch date because Louis only works half days on Fridays (1-5 pm) . Louis always treasures these blissful few hours where he’s able to catch up with one of his best friends and gossip or rant about anything his heart desires. 

Right now he scowls. “Why do none of my friends believe me?”

“Because we know you, babe,” Perrie says, taking a seat across from him. She takes a bite from her own blueberry muffin. “And we know you talk a lot of shit but we love you anyway.”

Louis smiles despite the slight. 

“What’re you even on about anyway?” Perrie asks, frowning. 

His grin returns to a scowl. “Zayn thinks he’s found my soulmate,” he spits. 

Perrie’s eyes widen. “Shit, really? That’s great!”

“No, no it’s not,” says Louis bitterly. 

Perrie raises an eyebrow. 

“I like Luke, remember?” he prompts. “You’ve heard me go on about him all the time???”

She frowns. “Well… yeah. I always assumed that was more of an infatuation though. You don’t actually know him that well, Lou.”

“What do you mean? We’ve worked together for two years,” Louis says incredulously. 

“Yeah, and you’ve had a sorta crush on him for the entirety of those two years yet you’ve never done anything about it,” Perrie points out. “It seems to me that he’s more like a distraction than an actual potential boyfriend. You even dated Jamie for a while there and didn’t think of Luke at all.”

“That’s because Luke was dating Peter,” says Louis defensively. “And I don’t like to waste too much time on taken men. He’s single now though, and we’ve been talking more.” Talking more, talking in general- same thing. 

“Yeah but… you still don’t really know him,” says Perrie slowly. “You just think he’s hot. And you like that he’s a reader like you.” 

“Those are two important things,” says Louis. “I always said I’d marry a reader.”

Perrie gives him an unimpressed look.

“I don’t know _Harry Styles_ either,” he says pettily. 

“That’s different. You don’t know him but he’s your _soulmate_ which means you’re literally bound to get along,” says Perrie. “I don’t understand why you’re not happy about this. If Zayn can find him again then you’ll be set.”

“I just don’t think soulmates are all that special,” Louis says defensively. “It’s kind of naive, innit?”

“Not naive, it’s literally how the universe works. You didn’t use to feel this way,” says Perrie, perplexed. 

He nods. She’s right. He used to be a complete romantic about soulmates, constantly staring at his soulmark in the mirror and dreaming of what he’d be like, how they’d meet, how they’d fall in love and live happily ever after like a fucking fairy tale. 

“I just think it’s stupid to think there’s a single person out there you’re meant to be with,” says Louis firmly, tapping his fingers on the table. “There’re stories of soulmate matches being wrong too y’know.”

“Yeah, less than 1%,” says Perrie with an unimpressed stare. 

“It still happens,” Louis insists. “And sometimes perfectly good matches are ruined by soulmates too.” He glowers. 

Perrie rolls her eyes. “For fuck’s sake babe, Seb was _four years ago_.”

“I’m allowed to still be bitter,” says Louis, crossing his arms. “We dated for two years and he literally told me he’d never love anyone like he loved me and how our soulmates didn’t matter because we were perfect together, practically chosen soulmates. Then he dumps me the day he bumps into his actual soulmate.” He’s being snarky about it now but in reality, he was utterly devastated when it happened. 

Seb kicked him out of their flat and six months later he and Elizabeth were _married_ and _expecting._

So sue him for being a little bit resentful towards the concept of soulmates. 

“You can’t let that asshole ruin your perception of your own soulmate,” Perrie says rationally. “Look, before I met Alex, I was skeptical too but he changed everything.” She sounds so dreamy Louis kind of wants to smack her. 

“What about the 1%? What if this Harry guy really isn’t meant to be with me?” asks Louis because it's in his nature to be oppositional. 

“You can’t just let that stop you,” says Perrie. “It’s a risk worth taking. And if you’re in the 99%, then it’ll literally be the best gift ever. I mean it, Lou. Soulmates are so good. Dating your soulmate is a whole other plane of romance, believe me.” 

Louis frowns, unconvinced. 

“Don’t you want a boyfriend?” asks Perrie. 

“Of course I do!” Louis exclaims. He’s always been someone who needs constant attention and affection to function normally. He grew up with four siblings (now six) and a very tactile mother which means he grew up in a blur of cuddles, laughter, and human connection- things he still needs now to be happy. 

Of course, he wants to fall in love- to be loved by someone and love them in return. For someone to hold him and support him and be there for him intimately but also platonically. 

He craves love like he craves food and water. It’s _necessary_. 

A soulmate is a concept he’d loved immediately when he first learned about them at age 8. Jay had sat him down and explained how his other half was waiting somewhere in the world for him and one day they’d unite (or reunite as Jay explained it). He wouldn’t know anything about this person until he turned 16 when he’d wake up with their name printed on his skin somewhere. 

She told him how this person would love him better than anyone could, even her- something Louis found unbelievable (and still does). 

Louis has read countless theories and studies on the concept. Most people believe soulmates originate from the Greek theory: people are born into the universe as creatures with two souls that split when they reincarnate into Earth. These people spend the rest of their lives searching for their other soul, or “missing half.” The concept had first entranced him like it entranced many others. 

He went through the phases of being obsessed with his soulmate. He did some digging on the internet but found nothing but porn stars and some random guy from a boyband. He automatically searched everyone he passed on the streets, scanning so much skin for the familiar scrawl of his own name inked on their bodies. 

Obviously, he’s been unsuccessful. It almost feels anticlimactic to his seventeen to eighteen-year-old self. He spent so long searching for this mysterious guy only to lose hope and date other people and then randomly find him (or technically, have his friend find him) years later at twenty-four when he’s pretty much given up and hasn’t been thinking about it that much. 

He hasn’t tried to google the guy in six years yet he shows up randomly in the same city and bumps into his roommate. What are the fucking odds?

He escapes his thoughts and meets Perrie’s expectant eyes. 

“I just don’t want to pin all my hope for happiness on this person who I haven’t even met,” he says crossly. 

Perrie is silent for a minute but then, “Isn’t that kind of similar to what you’re doing when you glorify a potential relationship for your coworker who you actually don’t really know?” 

He blinks, mouth falling open. 

Maybe he can’t stand Perrie either. 

-

When Louis returns to the flat on Saturday after his manicure with Perrie and Jade, he’s met with Gigi and Zayn staring at him from the kitchen table. He stops abruptly, looking between the two of them while he slips off his jacket. 

“Um. Hello?” he says, confused. 

They continue to stare at him. 

“What’s going on?” he asks hesitantly. Gigi being over isn’t what’s concerning him considering how much time she and Zayn spend together and how nauseatingly in love they are. She’s dressed effortlessly in a sleek pantsuit with her hair tied up looking like the model she is. Zayn is just as casually classy. However, the two of them look stiff like statues fixed in set positions, all unblinking stares and grim faces. It’s unnerving and Louis is more confused than ever. “Why does this look like you’re going to tell me some bad news.”

“It’s not bad news,” Zayn says a bit too quickly. 

He raises an eyebrow, slowly moving to take a free seat at the table. “Well, what’s up? Why are you both staring at me like that?”

They exchange looks again and Louis is beginning to get annoyed. 

“What happened?” he snaps. He glances between them, eyes widening. “Did Zayn propose?”

Zayn turns red and Gigi cackles, breaking the rigid atmosphere. 

“ _No,_ ” says Zayn empathetically. He looks mortified and Louis feels better. He glares at Louis. “You’d know if I were going to propose!”

“Well, I mean, there is such a thing as spontaneity, but I guess I should’ve guessed you wouldn't have the guts,” says Louis with a grin. He turns to the blonde cheekily, “Don’t worry, Gigi. He’ll man up eventually- it’s just a matter of time.”

“ _Louis_ ,” says Zayn warningly, but Gigi is still laughing so Louis thinks he’s fine. 

“No, but seriously, why were you both just staring at me creepily?” Louis presses, folding his hands on the table. 

Zayn grimaces. “We have a proposition.”

He blinks. “Um, what?” He looks between their blank faces, horror slowly growing. “This isn’t- This isn’t a threesome offer is it?”

Gigi cackles again, eyes wide. Zayn blanches. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he groans. 

“It’s a fair question,” Louis maintains, fidgeting with his fingers.

“How would that even go? Would I get a strap-on and we’d double penetrate Louis?” asks Gigi curiously. Zayn’s mouth drops open. 

Louis is the one blushing now. “Okay, that escalated quickly-”

“You guys are awful,” Zayn exclaims, shaking his head. He still looks pale and Louis is quite honestly offended by how disgusted he looks. 

“I’m just joking babe,” Gigi says.

Zayn sends her a look. “Forgive me for assuming this conversation was going to go normally," he grumbles. “ _Anyway._ What we were trying to ask you is if you wanted to go out tomorrow night?”

Louis blinks, disbelief spreading across his features. “ _That’s_ what you wanted to ask?” They both look uncomfortable and his suspicion grows. “With who?” he questions. 

Zayn twitches and Louis catches it. “What?” he demands. 

“We may have invited two new friends,” says Zayn slowly. 

Louis narrows his eyes, his suspicion blooming. “And who exactly are they?”

“Niall Horan. He’s a nice guy and I know you two will get along great,” says Zayn smoothly. Louis raises an eyebrow. “And he’s bringing his flatmate.”

“His flatmate?” Louis repeats flatly. He’s got a feeling what Zayn is trying to do and he’s not happy about it. “And who, pray tell, is that?”

Zayn shrugs nonchalantly. “I dunno. Niall says he’s swell though.”

Gigi keeps her face neutral, but Louis stares her down- knowing she’s more likely to blurt out the truth. 

“Fuck, just tell him,” says Gigi, huffing. 

Louis smiles smugly, turning to Zayn who’s rolling his eyes. 

“For fuck’s sake, his flatmate is your soulmate, is that what you wanted?” asks Zayn angrily. 

“No. No way in hell,” says Louis, shaking his head vehemently. 

“C’mon, babe,” says Gigi. “Just one meeting.”

“Absolutely not, we’ve discussed this already." Louis continues to shake his head, vision blurring with the intensity of his refusals. 

“You can’t make a decision without ever talking to him!” Zayn argues. Louis shuts his eyes and covers his ears childishly. “Look, I just told Niall I’m bringing my flatmate. As far as they both know, you’re just my best mate. Your soulmark is literally always hidden- Harry won’t know you’re Louis Tomlinson unless you tell him. You can even go by ‘Blue’ if it makes you feel better.”

Louis frowns, considering it. ‘Blue’ is a nickname Zayn used to call him when they first met. It was a play on his eye color and his other nickname, ‘Lou’. Hypothetically speaking, it could work.

“Just one night,” says Gigi calmly. “If you don’t like him, you don’t have to tell him. Or you do- can’t have the poor guy keep looking blindly for you everywhere when you’re right here whether you want to be with him or not. The point is, this is the only way to know for sure.” 

They look at him imploringly and Louis finds himself agreeing before he even really knows it. “Okay, _fine._ But we’re doing the nickname thing. I really don’t want this guy to expect things from me when I’m very sure it’s not going to happen.”

“We’ll see,” Zayn says smugly. 

“Now can we please work on your guys’ subtlety skills, because honestly, what the fuck was that?” Louis exclaims. 

Gigi groans. “You know I’m a terrible liar.”

“Yeah, but Zaynie’s normally good at it,” says Louis. 

“I was stressed on Gigi’s behalf and it screwed me up,” complains Zayn. “And you fucking brought up _proposing,_ you bastard.”

Louis grins. 

“And then a _threesome_!? Why am I friends with you?” Zayn continues, looking so revolted Louis can’t help but grin even wider. 

“Because I’m a delight,” says Louis breezily. “And it would be a privilege to fuck this arse, Malik.”

Zayn makes a face. “It is a nice arse,” he admits. Louis smirks, triumphant.

“Very nice,” Gigi agrees. 

“This is why we’re friends, we can all agree I have a fantastic ass,” says Louis smugly. “Anyways, Gigi, when’s your next show?”

-

“This is not going to go well,” Louis declares, fidgeting with his fringe. He opted to leave it unstyled for tonight, knowing it made him look even more delicate than he already did. 

He’s dressed casual in black high-waisted skinny jeans with rips in the knees and a silky, somewhat cropped turquoise shirt (which still covered his stupidly ginormous soul mark, thank fuck) that made his eyes pop. He’s not trying to impress anyone, he’s _not._

“You’re too cynical, mate,” says Zayn. He’s got his arm slung around Gigi’s shoulders and they look disgustingly soulmate-y in their classy, matching outfits. Not to mention they both always look like models ready to walk down the runway. It’s very annoying being friends with ridiculously attractive people. 

“I’m being realistic,” Louis counters. “One, we’re lying to someone. Two, I don’t want a soulmate. And three, that someone we’re lying to _is_ my soulmate.” 

“We’re not technically lying,” Zayn denies. “We’re just calling you by a nickname.”

“But if this guy’s soulmark is visible, then it’ll be strange if he finds out that we noticed, especially if _I_ noticed, and didn’t speak up about it,” says Louis impatiently. 

“Don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, Harry’s soulmark is on his bicep and it’s January,” says Zayn logically. “He’ll probably be wearing something long-sleeved and it won’t show at all.” Louis tries not to imagine what it looks like- what his name looks like printed on someone else’s skin. 

“If that’s true then how did you even see it in the first place on Tuesday?” he demands. 

Zayn shrugs. “He was in workout clothes.”

“Oh, bet Louis would enjoy that,” says Gigi teasingly. Louis glares at her. 

“Wait, hold on, how did you guys even find that bloke Niall then?” he asks as the information processes, eyes widening. He sends Zayn a horrified look. “Did you stalk him?!”

“What the fuck, no!" Zayn exclaims. “What is with your ridiculous accusations this week?”

Louis just shrugs. 

“If you let me explain everything that day instead of being a brat, you’d know that Niall works at the hospital with me because he’s a physician assistant and we talk sometimes. His roommate came on Tuesday to pick up his keys because they’re sharing his car while Niall’s is in the shop. I saw it on his arm,” Zayn explains. “I didn’t stalk anyone, for fuck’s sake.” 

“This is a very strange situation,” Louis defends. 

“You both are very strange,” says Gigi, looking amused. “Now let’s go, Zayn may be easy to stall but I’m not. You’re meeting him whether you like it or not, Lou.”

Louis frowns. “Damn you,” he mutters. 

She flashes him a smile. 

-

The club is a familiar one- Louis has been here countless times with Zayn and Gigi, sometimes with Perrie and her friends, or even with a few work friends. However, tainted with anticipation of what’s to come, the atmosphere suddenly feels threatening and looming. Louis does his best to ignore it. 

Niall apparently reserved a table for them so they make their way through the crowd of tipsy, sweaty clubbers- Zayn and Gigi in front and Louis lagging behind, nervous beyond comprehension. It’s loud- the heavy sound of the bass vibrating throughout the room, but Louis can barely hear it through the pounding of his heart. 

He can’t even begin to describe the rush of relief that goes through him when they approach said table where a lone man sits- he has light brown hair and more importantly, _blue eyes._ Which means it’s not Harry Styles, and Louis doesn’t have to panic yet. 

“Hey, Niall,” greets Zayn as the man stands up. They hug briefly and then he turns his attention to Louis and Gigi. “This is my girlfriend, Gigi, and my best mate, Blue.”

Louis smiles, hoping it doesn’t come across as strained. He gingerly shakes the hand held out to him, muttering a quick, “Nice to meet you.” Gigi goes in for a hug, a lot more forward than Louis is. He’s naturally a shyer person, much more outgoing and comfortable with those he knows well. The fact that he’s technically deceiving this friendly man in front of him doesn’t help. 

“Zayn’s said a lot of good things about you,” says Niall happily. His smile is sincere and kind so Louis relaxes a tad. 

“Where’s your flatmate?” asks Zayn, eyebrows raised. 

Niall chuckles, shrugging. “Probably flirting with the bartender I reckon.” Louis stiffens, breath catching. 

Zayn blinks. “Oh.”

“Harry’s a bit of a flirt but he’s a good guy,” says Niall, smiling. “I’ll get him over here and I’ll pick up the first round too, my treat!”

“Thanks, man,” says Zayn.

Niall smiles at all of them before heading off. Louis collapses into the bench seat, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m not ready,” he says. 

Zayn and Gigi take their seats on the opposite bench. “Relax, Lou,” says Gigi. “Everything’s going to go fine.” Her tone is soothing and normally Louis would believe her, but not today. He’s too nervous. 

“Why are you so bothered if you’re so convinced that soulmates aren’t that big of a deal?” asks Zayn smugly. Louis scowls at him. 

“I’m just worried we’ll be exposed for lying,” Louis fibs, fidgeting with his shirt. The ball of nerves settled in his stomach is growing with every passing second. “C’mon, you have to admit this is very shady.”

“No, it’s definitely shady,” Gigi confirms, frowning. 

“It is not,” says Zayn right as a gleeful voice rings out. 

“I’ve got alcohol!” Niall glides over to them, eyes sparkling and a tray of drinks in his hands. Louis sucks in a breath because Niall isn’t alone. 

Harry Styles. 

And fuck had Zayn been right when he said he was exactly Louis’ type. Maybe Louis has been in denial when it comes to the idea that soulmates are literally perfect for you. Or maybe it just didn’t fully process that “perfect for you” includes “meets literally all of your ideal characteristics.”

Because, holy shit. 

Harry Styles saunters over to the table with an easy grin on his face. Zayn was right- he definitely could pick Louis up. His eyes run over the thickness of his biceps, admiring the way they flex under the material of a black button-up shirt- long sleeves, Zayn was right again. Inches of smooth, muscled chest are exposed where his shirt is unbuttoned including the outline of two swallows just below his collarbone. His shoulders are broad too, narrowing into slimmer hips and strong thighs. He’s wearing ridiculous yet somehow sexy mustard yellow flared jeans with vertical black stripes on the sides that accentuate the length of his long legs. 

Louis swallows. 

It almost feels like a bolt of lightning has shot through him, electric and dizzying. Supposedly, that’s another suspected hint for detecting your soulmate: an unidentifiable feeling that hits you when you see them for the first time. Some indescribable and life-changing feeling that only the two of you experience. It’s a moment that is captured in thousands of rom coms and novels and not to mention obnoxiously boasted about from basically every soulmate couple Louis has ever encountered. Despite that, Louis always brushed off the concept, scoffing at the clicheness of it all, but part of him almost believed it right then.

If not for the complete lack of reaction from Harry himself. 

He bites his lip as the two men slide into the booth, nearly making a sound as Niall slips in beside Zayn leaving Harry to take the last free seat beside him. He exhales shakily, painfully aware of all his limbs and extremities. 

There’s more than a foot of space between them yet Louis can almost feel his warmth transmitting to him anyway- like there are energy waves traveling between their bodies, alive and vibrating. 

“Nice to meet you,” says Zayn, smiling as he reaches a hand out to Harry. Louis watches out of the corner of his eye as Harry shakes his hand. His hand is _huge_ \- veiny and powerful with an assortment of eccentric and bold rings adorning his long fingers and smooth black polish on his nails. 

Fuck, Louis had always been a whore for big, sexy hands. 

“Nice to meet you. Zayn, right?” says Harry, and Louis almost shivers at the deep timbre of his voice. He talks in a smooth drawl: slow and deliberate, sinking into the listener’s ears and staying there. Fuck. “I’m Harry.” 

“I’m Gigi,” says Gigi, shaking his hand next. 

Then Harry’s turning to him. 

“Blue,” he croaks, smiling uneasily. Then Harry’s shaking his hand and he holds his breath for the entirety of the three-second shake. It doesn’t help that Harry is clearly one to focus his entire attention on the person he’s talking to/greeting. His green eyes (yes, they really are green) meet his own in an intense stare, and Louis has to stop himself from openly salivating at the self-assured display. Harry’s grip is firm but gentle at the same time, hand engulfing his own entirely.

Louis’ mind immediately goes to other things Harry could grip: his cock, his hair, the back of his neck-

He blushes, heart rate escalating rapidly. Those are not safe thoughts. He hides his flustered state by reaching for a glass and knocking it back. The tangy burn of tequila meets his taste buds and he swallows, praying he won’t lose it. He glances at the man next to him again, lingering on the sharp cut of his jawline before averting his eyes and tuning back into the conversation. 

Niall’s explaining how he and Zayn met and Harry is nodding along interestedly. Louis missed the story because he’s so fucking distracted. Gigi sends him a smug look when he meets her eye and Louis doesn’t have the capacity to retaliate in some way. 

Instead, he takes another long swig from his glass. It’s going to be a long night. 

Needless to say, Louis stays pretty quiet for most of the conversation. When Niall inquires about his job, he answers, “I work in publishing, and I’m an editor,” quickly before shying away to hide behind his drink. He could have added that he also does freelance sometimes and also writes for himself but he’s not sure he has the mental capacity at the moment to say it all. 

Zayn asks about Harry’s career and Louis hates himself for automatically paying close attention. 

“I’m a lawyer,” says Harry. Louis honestly didn’t expect that but now that he’s said it, it slowly begins to make more sense. His effortless confidence and perceptive state. He always pays full attention to what’s being said and his comments so far have all been intuitive and thought out. Not to mention he’s eloquent. Another thing Louis has always been a whore for: intelligent, confident people. Fucking fuck. 

“Oh, cool,” says Gigi. “What cases do you usually work on?”

“I’m a human rights attorney so most of my cases are regarding defending the rights of more vulnerable populations: women, children, minorities, refugees, members of LGBTQIAP+ community, etcetera,” says Harry and Louis thinks his heart may have skipped a beat. “I’ve been working with Amnesty International UK for about four months now and I love my job. Nothing is more satisfying than helping fight crimes against human beings whose rights or dignity are being threatened and helping these people get the justice they deserve.” 

Louis nearly swoons. 

“Damn, how old are you?” Zayn asks, visibly impressed. 

Harry grins. “I’m twenty-four, turning twenty-five next month. I got my JD last year so I’m pretty new in the business. I haven’t actually been in charge of my own case yet but I’ve been assisting senior lawyers with some pretty big cases and it’s been really enlightening.”

“Okay that’s enough, H. You don’t want to bore them,” Niall jokes. 

Harry smiles, revealing a deep dimple. For fuck’s sake, Louis thinks. Can this get any harder?

Thankfully, things progress and conversation steers into more safe territory when Zayn and Gigi begin to talk about their respective careers. Harry seems equally intrigued by Zayn’s job in art therapy at the hospital and Gigi’s modeling and social media influencing schtick.

Louis just does his best to blend in the background. It works. 

It almost stings a little- the lack of reaction from his supposed soulmate who is supposed to be the one person so in tune with you, they wouldn’t be able to focus anywhere but you. That definitely isn’t happening to Harry though Louis is becoming more and more resigned that it _is_ happening to him. 

_Luke_ , he reminds himself. Luke is still waiting back at work. Louis likes Luke a lot. 

When did repeating that sound like he’s still trying to convince himself?

What is happening?

Unfortunately for Louis, Niall ends up directing the conversation to the one topic they really want to ignore: soulmates. 

“You two are soulmates, yeah? How did you guys meet?” he asks. 

“I took one of his adult therapy workshops because a friend recommended it to me,” Gigi explains with a fond smile. They share a lovey-dovey look that Louis would roll his eyes at if he weren’t in public. “My soulmark was out in the open but we didn’t even have to see them to know- the moment our eyes met, we both just _knew_.”

Louis frowns. That literally did not happen to him- maybe he and Harry really were part of the 1%. He ignores the way his heart pangs at the thought- like he's missing out or something. 

“That’s so sweet,” says Niall genuinely. He frowns, twisting around and pulling down the collar of his shirt to reveal a messy but endearing black scrawl: Amy Smith. 

“Amy Smith? Fuck, that sucks,” Gigi says sympathetically and Louis nods. He feels bad for the vast majority of people whose soulmates have ridiculously common names that tens of thousands upon tens of thousands (or even _millions_ ) all share. Those people can only rely on their soulmate recognizing their own handwriting and revealing their own soulmark with their names and handwriting. 

“Yeah,” says Niall sadly. “But I’m sure I’ll find her eventually.”

“You will, don’t worry,” says Zayn. “All soulmates find each other eventually.”

“True, but I’d rather it be soon rather than in my dying days,” says Niall bleakly. He’s not wrong, unfortunately- there have been cases where people didn’t stumble upon their soulmate until the last possible moments. They say everything's meant to happen for a reason but Louis can’t help but find the universe cruel for uniting these soulmates who have waited their whole lives for this moment, only to rip them apart within a week. 

Maybe that’s another reason he’s grown so against the whole concept. 

“I’m sure you’ll find her soon,” Harry says reassuringly. 

Louis has a feeling of what’s about to happen but it still makes him flinch. “What about you, Harry?” asks Zayn, the picture of innocent curiosity. 

He resists the strong urge to scoff. Thankfully Harry and Niall are both oblivious to Zayn’s ulterior motives. 

“Nope,” says Harry easily, sounding completely unbothered. He doesn’t say anything else. 

Louis is almost disappointed. He was secretly hoping for a long, drawn-out story of pining and aching but he guesses Harry really is his soulmate in that, exactly like Louis, he doesn’t really care that much. 

“Blue hasn’t found his soulmate either,” Gigi adds. Louis shoots her a glare. Niall hums in solidarity. He ducks his head quietly. 

The conversation drifts off again and then Harry is volunteering to get the next round and Zayn and Gigi are heading out to the floor to dance. Louis is left alone with Niall but he’s honestly relieved. He doesn’t have to be painfully aware of every one of Harry’s movements and that’s a fucking relief. He’s seriously considering a hastily planned exit when Harry inevitably returns with drinks, but Niall interrupts his internal scheming session. 

“So, Blue... What kind of books do you edit?” he asks. 

Louis’ stills, taken aback. He hadn’t expected Niall to actually interact with him beyond basic small talk- to be fair, Louis hadn’t made an effort either. “Um… I read a whole variety of genres, but my favorite is young adult contemporary or adult romance.” He waves a hand to gesture vaguely. “They’re the most entertaining.”

Niall grins. “You a big fan of romance then?” 

Louis shrugs. “In books, sure.”

“Not in real life?”

He grimaces, offering up a timid smile. “Haven’t exactly been swept off my feet much.”

“Both of us are just waiting,” Niall says wistfully, nodding in agreement.

He shakes his head before he can really think it through. “I don’t… Let’s just say I’m a little skeptical of how authentic soulmates really are,” he admits cautiously. 

Surprisingly, Niall nods eagerly. “Same! I feel like it’s kind of hard to believe it when you haven’t experienced it for yourself yet. I know what other people have felt but it still feels so… so _impossible,_ y’know?”

He nods slowly. That hadn’t been exactly what he meant but it was true nonetheless. 

A thump of a tray hitting the hard surface of the table announces Harry’s return. Louis glances at the man before averting his eyes quickly. Somehow in the past two minutes, his brain decided to forget the true extent of Harry’s attractiveness but it’s all coming back in full swing now: Harry in all his six-feet-something tall, broad, dimpled glory. 

“What’d you get?” Niall asks. 

“More tequila,” says Harry. 

“Ugh, I’m sick of tequila,” Niall complains, making a face. 

“Too bad, Horan. Should’ve gotten them yourself,” says Harry, plopping back into his seat. He grabs one of the glasses and takes a large swig. Louis’ heartbeat stutters at the sight of Harry’s throat muscles contracting as he swallows and his Adam’s apple bobbing. Not to mention the angle of his jaw- it practically screams that this is a man who eats a lot of ass. 

Louis blinks. No, he cannot think about his soulmate and eating ass in the same sentence, that’s too far. And weird. 

And tempting. 

Niall and Harry begin joking about something that is clearly an inside joke between them. Louis can’t even pretend he doesn’t feel left out. He grabs his own glass and decides to take small but frequent sips- maybe getting tipsy will make this all go faster. Except, Niall seems to notice his turmoil, glancing at Louis as he attempts to shrink. 

“Hey, Blue. Have you ever been on a blind date?” he asks, eyes widened.

Louis stills, taken aback. “Um… once, back in college.”

“How’d it go?” Harry asks, voice low and alluring. Louis nearly jumps at his voice. 

“Pretty bad,” says Louis honestly. His friend from uni set him up with a guy who was _married_. And that wasn’t even the worst part- the worst part was he kept trying to goad Louis into sleeping with him even though Louis had said firmly he doesn’t hook up on the first date within the first few minutes. “Definitely not my type.” 

“I had a blind date last week,” says Niall before shuddering. “Showed up drunk. Threw up on my shoes.”

“Yikes," Louis says, nose wrinkling at the thought.

“So you’re calling her again, right?” Harry says jokingly. Niall shoots him a look. 

“If only we could all have Harry’s charm,” he says, shaking his head sadly. Louis glances at Harry out of the corner of his eye- he’s smirking. 

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” says Harry, but his face says otherwise.

“Riiight, now where’s our flavor of the week today, hmm?” asks Niall snarkily. Flavor of the week? 

Harry rolls his eyes. “ _Valerie_ is with friends, asshole. Not that it matters- we’re friends with benefits, it’s not a relationship.”

“Because you don’t do relationships,” Niall mocks right as Harry says, “I don’t do relationships.” 

Louis blinks. 

Well, that’s… Disappointing. 

No. 

No, wait. It’s not. It’s not disappointing. 

Louis doesn’t care. 

Niall turns back to Louis. “Hey, what’s your real name?”

He freezes. Shit. Niall is looking at him expectantly and Louis is sweating. He can’t lie- that’s too far. He fidgets with his hair nervously. “Um… it’s-”

“Oh my god!” Harry exclaims, and Louis sends a prayer to the universe for cutting him some slack for once. “There’s Liam!” He gestures off into the distance while Louis does his best to calm his heartbeat. 

“Who?” asks Niall, head swiveling back and forth in confusion. 

“Liam, my gym buddy, remember?” says Harry as Louis takes another sip of tequila. “Liam Payne.”

Louis freezes, choking on his drink. He coughs loudly, gagging at the sharp burn in his throat. Niall sends him a concerned look as his eyes begin watering. 

“Y’alright, Blue?” he asks worriedly. 

He sends the man a thumbs up, still somewhat coughing right as Harry yells, “Liam! Over here!”

Panic rises in him. Liam. Liam Payne. He _knows_ Liam, very well in fact. This is not good. But there’s nothing he can do about it right now because he catches sight of Liam, dressed in all black, a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, and wearing a smile on his face. 

“Hey, Harry,” Liam says once he reaches the table. His hair is cropped a little shorter than when Louis last saw him last Saturday at the animal shelter and he's dressed nicely in slacks and a tight form-fitting shirt. 

“Hey, man,” says Harry. “This is my flatmate, Niall-” Niall smiles and they shake hands. “And this is-”

“Louis!” Liam exclaims, beaming. Louis forces a smile. 

“Hey, Liam,” he says lightly. 

“Louis?” Niall repeats curiously. Louis doesn’t dare look at Harry. Instead, he focuses on Liam, sliding his hands under his legs to hide the trembling and clearing his throat. 

“What’re you doing out?” he asks. “You never go out when I ask!” Louis can’t deny he’s a little offended. 

“You don’t go out when I invite you either,” Harry adds suddenly, causing Louis to flinch. He sounds amused. 

Liam shrugs. “My coworkers invited me out, figured that I might as well. To be honest, I’m kind of regretting it. Just gonna stick around a little bit longer before making my excuses.” 

“That’s the spirit,” says Niall dryly. He looks between Louis and Liam. “How do you two know each other?”

“We both volunteer at the animal shelter every other Saturday,” says Liam brightly. “Lou and I have been good friends for two years.”

Louis nods, smiling. 

“That’s cool,” says Harry, and Louis isn’t sure if he’s imagining the brief feeling of Harry’s eyes scanning over him. 

Liam chats with them a bit longer before declining Niall’s offer to sit down, remarking that he already feels like an asshole for trying to escape his coworkers and he ought to go find them. They say goodbyes and once again, Louis is left alone with Niall and Harry. 

“Y’know, Harry’s soulmate is named Louis,” Niall says immediately and Louis nearly chokes on air this time. 

“Oh?” he croaks. _Fuck!_

“Yeah, Louis Tomlinson,” says Niall right as Harry hisses an annoyed, “Niall!”

Louis stills, considering his options. In the end, it’s an easy decision. He can’t lie any longer or else he’ll feel guilty. Besides, it’s not fair to withhold this information from Harry whether he’s into relationships or not. He takes a final sip of tequila, needing the liquid courage. 

“I _am_ Louis Tomlinson,” he says quietly. It feels like the world stops and the entire club goes silent for a few painful seconds. He ducks his head for a moment before raising it again timidly. He doesn’t glance at Harry when he says, “I assume that means you’re Harry Styles.” 

Niall gapes. Beside him, he hears Harry suck in a breath. 

“Holy shit,” says Niall after a very loaded minute. He looks between the two of them. “Holy shit!! You guys are soulmates, what the fuck? This is crazy!”

He slowly turns to face Harry, face burning and heart pounding. Harry’s already looking at him with an unreadable expression. He’s frowning. “Niall, can you give us a minute?” he asks. 

“Oh yeah, yeah, of course,” says Niall, eyes wide. He gets up and practically runs away in an effort to give them privacy. Louis tenses. 

“Um-” he starts only to be interrupted. 

“Look, Louis,” says Harry, running a large hand through his dark curls. “I’m- I don’t know what to say here. I never really expected to meet my soulmate this soon, and while it’s nice to meet you, I’m not-”

“I’m seeing someone,” he blurts. Then he blinks, horrified. Did he just blurt that out? 

Did he just _lie_ to his soulmate?

Harry blinks, before a look of relief overtakes his face and he seems to slump in his seat beside him. “Thank, fuck.”

Louis’ heart stutters. He knew it was coming, but the confirmation that Harry was like him in the regard that he wasn’t so sold on soulmates for some reason feels hurtful. It’s hypocritical to be disappointed especially since Louis had every intent to reject him if he had wanted more. 

But it still sort of… stings. 

“Yeah, and you don’t do relationships right?” says Louis, trying to appear nonchalant. 

“Nope. I’m not ashamed that I sleep around quite a bit- I’m young and it’s easier especially since I work so much. I don’t really want to settle down any time soon either, and no offense, I don’t want to settle down with someone that the universe thinks is best for me. I’d want to choose my own soulmate,” says Harry. 

“That’s fair,” Louis nods, pretending like it doesn’t feel like a slap to the face. _You wanted this, remember?_

Harry grins at him and Louis malfunctions just a little bit. “I’m so relieved I didn’t have to fight you on this. Maybe we _are_ soulmates.” 

Louis chuckles weakly. 

“Glad we got that settled,” says Harry right as Niall returns with a very giddy Zayn and Gigi in tow. 

“You guys are soulmates, wow!” says Gigi, eyes unnaturally wide. Louis winces. She’s right, she really is terrible at lying. 

“Isn’t that crazy,” says Zayn, sending him a smug look. 

“I’m so happy for you two,” says Niall, eyes bright. 

“Um,” Louis begins, but thankfully Harry takes the initiative to explain.

“We’re not getting together,” he says flatly. 

The three of them still. 

“Wait, what?” says Gigi.

“I don’t believe in soulmates and Louis is dating someone,” says Harry casually. 

“Louis is…” starts Zayn. His eyes wander over to Louis’ who is doing his best to transmit his pleads to go along with it via facial expressions. “Riiight.”

There’s an awkward pause in which Niall sits down, looking confused and distressed. “But… but you guys are soulmates?”

“Not all soulmates get together,” says Louis quietly. 

“Louis’ right, just because the universe or God or whoever decided to tattoo each other’s names on our skin without our consent doesn’t mean we have to go with it,” Harry says, gesturing for emphasis. “I’m quite content with my routines.”

Gigi and Zayn are wearing matching expressions of disappointment but resignation. However, Niall still looks confused. “You’re not even going to give it a try?”

“What part of Louis dating someone did you not get?” Harry says with an eye roll. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. We- as in me and Louis- have come to a decision and that’s that.” 

“I’m sure Luke will be pleased,” says Zayn, almost grumpily. Louis internally curses him out. 

“Is that your boyfriend then?” asks Niall. “Luke?”

He pastes on a smile, wishing he could kick Zayn in the shin. “Yeah, we work together.” 

“They’re a great couple,” Gigi pipes up. “Always having long conversations…” Louis glares at her and she smiles winningly. 

“Well that’s anticlimactic,” says Niall with a regretful sigh. He shoots a look at Harry, “At least now you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Yup,” Harry says with a pleased grin. “I’m relieved honestly. What are the chances things would work out this easily?”

“It’s crazy,” Louis muters. There’s a strained pause in which Zayn and Gigi slide back into their seats and everyone fidgets uncomfortably. Except Harry, who’s pulled out his phone and is now furiously texting someone. Louis ducks his head and counts the scratches in the worn bench seat. 

“Right, so…” Niall voices, piercing through the tense atmosphere. “Who’s getting the next round?” 

-

Zayn and Gigi remain silent for most of the ride home, but as soon as they enter the flat, they predictably being their interrogation. “What exactly happened?” Zayn demands first. Louis hasn’t even taken off his jacket. 

“Tell us every single thing,” Gigi follows, eyes wide. “Why did you lie about having a boyfriend?”

Louis blushes at the last allegation. “It just came out,” he mumbles. “I was put on the spot okay?”

“Why? _What_ happened? How did they even figure out who you are?” Zayn demands. 

He grimaces. “Liam. Liam showed up.”

“Shit,” says Gigi. Louis nods, groaning into his hands. “So he blew your cover.”

“It’s not a cover, don’t call it that,” Louis complains. “Yeah, well, Niall was like, ‘Harry’s soulmate is also named Louis- Louis Tomlinson’ and I couldn’t lie anymore so I told them, and then Niall went away so Harry and I could talk and Harry doesn’t believe in soulmates.”

“Wow, you really are perfect for each other,” Gigi notes. 

“Shut up,” says Louis. “ _Anyway._ For some reason- actually no, there is a reason and that reason is that I’m a massive fucking idiot, I blurted out that I was with someone already and Harry seemed relieved so I went with it.”

“So you revealed yourself because you hate lying… and then you lied less than five minutes later,” Zayn summarizes, clapping his hands together. “Yup, sounds about right. This is why Gigi and I can’t leave you unsupervised.”

Louis scowls. “It’s not like it matters. I’m never going to see him again and if I do, hopefully by then I really _will_ be dating someone.” He shoots a pointed look at Zayn. “Dating _Luke_ apparently because you just _had_ to extrapolate instead of being vague.”

Zayn smirks. 

“Asshole,” Louis mutters. 

“Brat,” Zayn counters. 

“Funny coming from you,” Gigi jabs and Zayn feigns a wounded expression. She turns to Louis, softening. “Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”

“Yeah, of course,” says Louis dismissively. “This is what I wanted, remember? Besides, now I’m free to pursue Luke without any worries of randomly bumping into my soulmate.”

Gigi nods but Zayn looks just as unconvinced as he always does. Louis decides changing the subject is a stellar idea. “We’ve still got a tub of ice cream in the freezer, anyone up for Mean Girls and massive brain freezes?”

“We’re literally all buzzed,” says Gigi, gesturing to her own slumped figure. 

Louis raises an eyebrow. “So? Go big or go home.”

“Alright, fuck it,” says Zayn, shrugging. Gigi nods. 

Louis smiles. If he distracts himself enough, he won’t think about how a movie and ice cream is something straight out of a movie where the girl has just been dumped and is heartbroken and depressed. 

He is definitely not heartbroken. He’s _happy_. He doesn’t have to worry about Harry Styles ever again. He itches the fabric over his soulmark absently. Happy days. 

-

“Okay, what’s it called again?” asks Louis, phone pressed precariously to his ear with his shoulder as he struggles to balance his three grocery bags. 

“Better than Sex mascara, Lou,” says Lottie impatiently. “It should be there- it’s one of the more popular ones.” 

“Yeah, no, I see it,” says Louis, immediately spotting the pink and gold packaging. He picks up a box, biting his lip as he scans the front. “1944% increase in volume, huh.”

“Well obviously it’s an exaggeration but it does work really well,” says Lottie. “I use it all the time and my lashes look fantastic, don’t they?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Are they cruelty-free?”

“Cruelty-free and vegan,” Lottie confirms. “I dunno if there are any other controversies though so if you’re worried about that you may have to do some more research.” 

“Hmm,” says Louis. “I’ll buy one box and do some research.” He’s been experimenting more and more with makeup recently and his old mascara ran out so he figured he’d call his sister (the makeup “expert”) up and ask her for a recommendation to buy a better one. 

“Sounds good, send me a picture of how it turns out,” she says. “I have to go, Fizzy’s screaming at Daisy about something and I’m getting concerned. Bye, Lou. Love you!”

“Make sure they didn’t break anything!” Louis warns, all too aware of his and his siblings' shared knack of getting into trouble. “Bye, Lottie. Love you more!”

She hangs up and he sighs, slipping his phone into his pocket. He adds the mascara box to one of his emptier bags, having to practically shove it in to fit. His arms are full of eggs, tea, apples, Coco pops, pasta, onions, and bread. Thankfully, they weren’t out of milk or it’d be an even bigger struggle. The unusually small haul is a result of Zayn and Louis actually remembering they were due for a grocery trip rather than forgetting like usual and having to live off of PB&Js for three days. It happens more than Louis would like to admit.

Since Zayn went for the last grocery run, today had been Louis’ turn. It’s nearing 6 pm, barely an hour after he got off work (Luke was out today which was very disappointing, especially after the weekend he’s had). Since he despises driving, he chose to walk to their usual Tesco’s and brought their reusable bags with him. 

Luckily, the shop was pretty empty and he finished quickly, leaving him time to walk to the nearest makeup store and browse. With Lottie’s help, he’s walking out with a brand new, hopefully successful mascara to test out when he returns to the flat. 

He pays at the register, smiling at the very obviously bored employee before hoisting his bags up higher and walking to the entrance. It’s a nice day out, especially considering Januaries in London are always gloomy and gray. But the sun is out and shining brightly- it’s wonderful. He’s so distracted by the sight, he misses the body walking his way and walks straight into it. 

He raises his hands, off-balanced and flailing. A moment later, two strong hands grip him by the hips, steadying him. “I’m so sorry,” he says, eyes slowly rising to meet the stranger’s. 

Green. 

“Harry,” he breathes, taken off guard. And it is him. Harry is dressed in black skinny jeans and a thin white henley. He’s got sunglasses perched on his head even though it’s the middle of winter. 

He looks just as shocked as he feels. “Louis,” he says. He must realize he’s still holding onto Louis because he lets go abruptly, stumbling back a little bit for good measure. He straightens up, running a hand through his hair and almost knocking the glasses off. “This is a surprise.”

“Yeah,” Louis says lamely. There’s an awkward pause so he holds up his bags, very unnecessarily because they’re too big to need attention drawn to them. “I’ve been out running errands.”

“Oh,” says Harry, nodding. He points to the record store two stores down. “I heard about Mellie’s from a friend and wanted to check it out.” 

“Mellie’s is a nice place, they’ve got a nice selection,” says Louis. 

Harry looks interested. “You listen to records?”

Louis shrugs. “Very basic of me, I know. But they’re cool. It’s like a whole different experience listening to records than regular CDs or worse, Spotify.” He makes a face. "Music just sounds better coming from a record."

“Right, cool,” says Harry, nodding a little bit. Louis bites his lip, getting the hint. He feels embarrassment bubble up inside him. 

“Well hope you find something, um… Bye.” He starts walking, face burning. Why did he even start talking anyway? It’s clear Harry doesn’t want anything to do with him. 

“Wait, Louis!” calls out a voice. He stops, turning back around to see Harry in the same exact spot, looking at Louis with that familiar intense stare. “Do you need help carrying all that stuff?”

Louis blinks, glancing down at his bags. They’re heavy, that’s for sure. And help would be greatly appreciated, especially when it included the opportunity to ogle Harry’s biceps as he carried a few bags for him, but at the same time… He’s pretty sure Harry’s only offering to be nice when he actually doesn’t want to help. Louis doesn’t want to drag out an unwanted interaction if he can avoid it, so he shakes his head. “No it’s okay, but thanks for offering. I got it.” 

In reality, he’ll definitely be struggling after a few blocks but that’s beside the point. It’s nice out after all and what’s better weather to sweat and suffer than nice weather?

Harry nods, only confirming Louis’ guess he had only offered out of politeness. “Have a good day, Louis.”

“You too,” says Louis, turning around and walking away. Annoyingly, his heart is racing and he feels lightheaded as he continues down the block, adjusting his grip on all of the bags a few times so it’s easier to hold. 

It’s late Monday afternoon, not even a full forty-eight hours since the last time he’s seen the man yet they’ve already bumped into each other. What are the fucking chances? 

-

It’s lunchtime. 

Also known as Luke time. Louis waits patiently for everyone to begin heading out. He nods at Maisy, the intern, and waves goodbye to his coworkers Jem, Tom, and Lila as they all go off to eat at some cafe together. Then he casually rearranges his stationery collection (which he’ll admit is a little bit… over the top), peeking out of the corner of his eye as Luke stands up and makes his way to the break room. 

Louis waits a little longer before following. He stops in front of the open door and tries to hype himself up. _Today you’re actually going to strike up a longer conversation with him_ , he tells himself. He’s terrified but determined. 

So with his head held high, he enters the room. Luke is making his usual coffee, turned away from the door. Louis takes a deep breath before making his tea as usual. 

“Hey, Luke,” he says, glancing at the man and nearly cringing at the embarrassing amount of enthusiasm in his voice. If Luke is bothered, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles. 

“Hey, Louis. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good, I’m reading a fun novel for the first time in two weeks,” he says lightly. “What about you?”

“Horror novel,” says Luke. “I’m a big fan of the author too so it’s nice.”

“Cool, cool. I’m not really the biggest fan of horror,” says Louis. “I prefer the lighthearted stuff actually.”

Luke grimaces. “Personally, I’m the opposite. The romance and coming-of-age stuff bores me too easily. I really like horror, sci-fi, high fantasy… the action stuff.”

Louis nods. “That’s cool.” 

“Yeah,” says Luke. Then he takes his coffee and leaves. Louis exhales roughly. 

Technically, that was double the time of his usual conversations so he’s counting it as a win. One for Louis, zero for the Universe. 

He thinks of his random encounter with Harry the evening before… Maybe it’s One for Louis and one for the Universe then. Whatever, it won’t be that way for long. Louis doesn’t need his soulmate, he’ll prove it. 

-

It’s Friday and Perrie and Louis are having brunch, catching up on everything. Perrie is sporting pink highlights which she apparently let Jade do two nights ago when they were both piss drunk. Ironically, Louis is halfway through telling Perrie about meeting Harry for the first time when the man himself walks through the door. He’s dressed in striped black trousers, a black shirt, and a long black coat looking like some sort of model. 

Louis sucks in a breath, eyes latching onto his tall frame as he strides to the front, joining the small line of people. 

“Louis?” Perrie prompts. She follows his gaze and raises an eyebrow. “See someone you like?”

“Perrie, that’s _Harry_ ,” says Louis, teeth grit. 

Perrie blinks, taking another survey of the man and looking appreciative. “Well, he’s your type.”

Louis groans. Why does everyone have to point out the obvious? “That’s the thing about soulmates isn’t it?” he snaps, feeling guilty when Perrie raises her hands in surrender. 

“Okay, _chill_.”

“Sorry, I’m just… annoyed,” he says. He fidgets with his sweater then shamelessly studies his own outfit. He’s wearing a soft blue sweater and light wash mom jeans- dressing in lighter colors to combat the dreary gray weather they’ve been having. His navy blue coat is hung on the back of his chair. He looks okay, he thinks. He’s even wearing his new mascara, loving the way it makes his eyes pop and lengthens his already blessedly long eyelashes. 

“No shit,” Perrie mutters but she softens anyway. “He probably won’t even come over here.”

He doesn’t reply. 

“Unless… you want him to come over here?” Perrie guesses, looking shocked. He curls into himself, feeling caught out. “Oh my god, you actually like him.”

“I do not,” he hisses. “I’m just… curious.”

Perrie stares at him. 

“I like Luke,” he reminds her. 

“Riiight,” she replies dryly. He crosses his arms petulantly. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter what Louis wants because Harry passes by their table, sees Louis, and then does a double-take. “Louis,” he says, eyes wandering over him quickly. 

“Harry,” he replies curtly. He glances at Perrie, clearing his throat. “This is my friend, Perrie.”

“Nice to meet you,” she says, holding out a hand. Harry shakes it and once again, Louis’ attention is irrevocably stuck on their sheer size and strength. Maybe he has a fucking hand kink, Jesus Christ. 

“You too,” he says. He looks at Louis, expression unreadable. 

Perrie breaks the awkward staring match. “Have you been here before?”

Harry nods, turning to her. “Not this early usually but Niall- my flatmate- and I have grabbed a quick bite here a few times.” 

“It’s a good place,” Louis says, biting his lip. 

Harry nods again. He clears his throat, visibly fidgeting. “Have a good day you two.”

“You too,” says Louis monotonously as Harry walks off. He can’t lie about the way his heart seems to fall. 

“Fucking hell,” says Perrie. 

“What?”

“The _tension_ , that’s what,” says Perrie. “The way he was staring at you, oh my god.” 

Louis blinks. “Wait, what?” 

Perrie looks at him incredulously. “He was, like, _drooling._ ”

“Um… what’re you talking about?” Louis asks, baffled. At Perrie’s continued disbelief, he adds, “Did we sit through the same stilted conversation? He literally left as fast as he could.”

“He was _literally_ eye-fucking you,” Perrie corrects bluntly. 

Louis sputters. 

“I’m serious. Especially with your sexy mascara making your eyes look even sultrier than normal- probably gave him a boner.” She snickers and Louis’ mouth drops open, scandalized. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says firmly. “He barely spoke to us.”

“Yeahhh, cuz he was so busy looking at you,” Perrie says, eyes widening and a smirk curving her lips. “You look really good always but the lipgloss and mascara really up the sexiness.” 

He gapes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m speaking the truth.” 

Louis takes another sip of his water, eyes roaming the room. He freezes when he inevitably finds Harry again, a bitter taste forming in his mouth when he takes in the scene. “Well, actually, it seems like Harry is actually eye-fucking someone else,” he says lightly. Perrie frowns, turning to where he's focused. 

Harry is standing with another man: petite, blond, and very attractive. Harry’s smirking playfully and the man is laughing, his small hand poised delicately on Harry’s bicep. He thinks back to what Niall said, _flavor of the week._

“Huh,” says Perrie, completely flabbergasted. “Well, damn. He really didn’t want a soulmate.”

“Anyways,” says Louis, forcing himself to rip his gaze away. He ignores the burning feeling in his chest and takes another hefty bite of his salad, other hand absently widening one of the frayed holes in his jeans. “Did you see the new Fifty Shades movie?”

“Oh my god, yeah. I went with Leigh-Anne, it was insane,” says Perrie. 

“Very inaccurate to what BDSM is actually like though,” Louis sniffs. 

“You’d know,” says Perrie jokingly. She takes a bite of her wrap. 

“And what?” he asks unabashedly. “Being dommed is much more satisfying than regular vanilla sex. Especially if you’re tied up or pinned down.”

Perrie chokes.

-

Unfortunately, the universe apparently gets off on the idea of Louis having to suffer because Sunday morning, Louis, once again, encounters Harry unintendedly. 

He’s at the park, laying on the grass on one of his old blankets with his laptop with the latest litfic he’s editing queued up and a bag of sour patch kids (aka the best motivation: one sour patch kid for every five hundred words). Since he’s just editing, he’s dressed in sweats, his favorite _femme fatale_ sweatshirt, and a beanie over his feathery hair. 

He’s halfway through his scheduled pages when a shadow falls over his quaint little setup. He looks up, squinting up at the very frustrated face of a very sweaty Harry Styles. 

Louis blinks, taking in the glistening defined skin and the tank top and running shorts as well as the tangled wires of headphones in his ears. Harry doesn’t say anything as he sits down at the edge of the blanket with a huff, jaw tensed and fists clenched. He rips out his earbuds in one fell sweep- a single loud sound that contrasts with his quieter but still deliberate pants. 

Calmly, Louis sets down his laptop and sits cross-legged, maintaining a peaceful expression. “Harry,” he greets cautiously. 

Instead of responding with a “Louis,” and continuing their unintentional pattern, Harry just glares at his legs, rigid. Louis waits patiently, knowing that saying anything else would just make things worse. It’s clear Harry is angry but he’s hoping it’s more of a broader anger, directed to the universe and not at him. Louis hates when people are mad at him. So he waits with bated breath, hands clasped loosely in his lap. 

“Why does this keep happening?” Harry asks abruptly. 

Louis doesn’t need clarification for what exactly ‘this’ is. “I think it’s natural. We’ve been introduced, now the universe wants us to get together.”

“That’s so fucked up,” Harry mutters. “Why can’t the universe let things happen organically? Why can’t love be natural?”

He doesn’t answer, assuming it’s a rhetorical question. 

Harry sighs, rubbing his temples tiredly. “Sorry for being so aggressive, I’ve just been having an awful day.”

“What happened?” asks Louis carefully. Harry frowns at him and he gives him an encouraging smile.

“Well, it’s not a case but more of a research project. We’ve been trying to fight the continued use of mass surveillance of the general public which the government is trying to justify as a legitimate counter to terrorism, but they’re blatantly choosing to reject supervision from the European Court of Human Rights which is a major red flag,” explains Harry. Louis nods, sort of getting the gist of it. “We’re trying to get more information about the legality of it all but none of the representatives we’ve contacted so far have replied and it’s been weeks and everyone’s stressed and my supervisor is pissing me off with how brash he’s being in his decision making but I can’t say anything about it because I’m still a newbie.” He sighs. 

Louis waits a second, doing his best to process everything Harry just laid out for him. “That… sucks,” he says finally. 

Harry snorts. “Definitely.” He glances at Louis, looking almost embarrassed. “Sorry for dropping all of that on you, it’s pretty boring I know.”

Louis shakes his head, gazing up at the cloudy sky. “First of all, I asked. Second of all, it’s not boring at all. I’m actually interested in this kind of stuff. Mass surveillance right? I read an article on that recently. Infringement of people’s privacy is never okay and it’s really good that you’re trying to stop it, especially from the government whose job is to protect people’s privacy and quality of life.”

Harry is staring at him when he meets his eyes again. He flushes. “Thanks,” Harry says eventually. He clears his throat. “What about you? Editing?”

“Yeah,” says Louis. “I need to get it done by Wednesday when I’m meeting with the author.” 

“What’s it about?” asks Harry and he sounds genuinely interested. 

Louis shrugs. “I’m still pretty early. I don’t like to read synopses of books when I edit them because if the author does their job right, I should get the gist of it as soon as possible without any extra information.”

“That’s smart. What ‘gist’ is this book giving you?” 

“So far it seems to be a family conflict-centered story- the main character is estranged from all of her immediate family except for her little brother who she regularly emailed. It’s already been revealed that he’s died in a car accident and how she’s heading back to her small town for the first time in a decade,” says Louis. He smiles. “Kind of cliche but I like the author’s writing style- their prose is simplistic and smooth, my favorite kind.” For a second he’s afraid he rambled too much but then Harry nods. 

“I feel like it could be sort of fun to edit novels for a living,” he muses. “That’s not to say it isn’t challenging or anything- I’m well aware sifting through tons of pages of words must be exhausting, but especially if you like the genre, it might be enjoyable?” 

“Definitely,” says Louis. “I like more of the lighthearted stuff myself. Romance and coming-of-age, even if it is sappy. I feel like the happy shit is just as good as the depressing, deep shit.”

Harry grins. “I agree. I love happy stories: books, movies, tv shows. I watch a _lot_ of rom coms and chick flicks, Niall can probably testify to that.” He pauses to shudder. “Not Legally Blonde though.” 

Louis blinks. Huh. He can’t deny that Harry’s response surprised him, but he brushes it off. “Legally Blonde is a fantastic movie,” he declares. 

“It’s entertaining but the portrayal of law school and court proceedings is so off,” says Harry, gesturing his hands to emphasize. “If only winning a case was as easy as remembering rules for getting a perm.” 

Louis grins. “What, so they don’t teach you hair care tips and tricks in law school? Your curls had me convinced, I bet you know how to condition properly.”

“Fuck off,” says Harry, laughing. His laugh is deep and loud, rumbling through his chest. “Maybe this isn’t so bad.”

“What isn’t so bad?” 

“Us bumping into each other,” says Harry, dimpling. Louis stills. “I mean, maybe we can use this as an excuse to become friends. God knows we’ll be running into each other for the rest of our lives, give or take.”

The rest of our lives. “Yeah,” says Louis faintly. “Like platonic soulmates?”

Harry’s eyes widen. “Exactly!” he says enthusiastically. He tilts his head back, exposing the distinct lines of his throat muscles. “Take that universe!”

Louis smiles, but it quickly turns to a frown. “Feel free to not answer if you don’t want to, but why exactly don’t you believe in soulmates?” He’s been wondering about it for a while, but he didn’t want to bring it up. But Harry seems to be in a better mood now and it doesn’t dampen when Louis’ question settles in the air. 

“I just never did,” says Harry. “My parents were soulmates but they divorced. So I guess they really weren’t soulmates in the actual regard.”

Louis blinks in surprise. Divorces between soulmates are almost unheard of. Harry notices his shock. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “It happened when I was ten, and I just lost all of my belief in the whole thing. If soulmates are really true, then how come it didn’t work on my parents?”

“That’s a valid reason,” says Louis. “I have to admit I’ve been skeptical for a while myself.”

“Right? It’s such an outlandish notion when you really think about it,” Harry rants. “Love isn’t a predetermined fate. It’s something that’s built. You can’t assign people soulmates, it doesn’t make sense. Love is meant to be a choice. And I know I want to choose who I end up with, not let a stupid tattoo decide for me.” 

Louis nods, feeling strangely _off_ about the whole thing _._ Everything Harry has said have been things he’s agreed and even preached to Zayn or Perrie countless times, yet it feels... weird now. Different. 

Harry lays back on the blanket. “Anyways, let’s talk about something more pleasant. Do you always edit outside?”

“No, not really. Only when I’m sick of the indoors,” says Louis. “To be fair, that’s not often. I’m definitely a homebody.”

“Not me,” says Harry lazily. His tank top is riding up on his torso, exposing taut abs. Louis swallows, averting his eyes. “I like going out. I’m so busy with work all the time that when I’m free to take my head out of my research, I always go out as much as possible.” 

“Makes sense,” says Louis. Hesitantly, he lays back too. There’s plenty of distance between them yet Louis can’t help but tense. Harry takes up so much space on his small picnic blanket. So much space that Louis can’t possibly ignore him. He wills himself to focus on the clouds. “How’d you and Niall meet?”

Harry laughs, arm slung over his face. “Oh, man, that was ages ago. We both worked at this shit food court spot in junior year of uni. The day we met, Niall was meant to show me the ropes because I was new but instead of teaching me how to assemble sandwiches, he told me that as the senior employee, he’d always have first dibs on leftovers. Then he explained what all the easiest jobs were for slacking off and then gave me a Twix bar. Been stuck together ever since.” 

Louis’ mouth quirks up, endeared by the transparent fondness in Harry’s tone. 

“What about you and the lovebirds?” asks Harry, shooting him a look. 

“I met Zayn at freshman orientation in freshman year,” says Louis, smiling at the thought. 

“Wow.”

“Yup, somehow his border-line broody bad boy look and lack of social skills hooked me right at the start,” says Louis. “Then Zayn met Gigi a year ago and it’s been sparkles and rainbows between them ever since.”

“Gross.”

“Indeed.”

“Okay serious question,” says Harry solemnly. He turns over on his side to look at him, a stray strand of hair falling over his forehead. A buried part of Louis yearns to brush it away, but he refrains. “Liverpool or Manchester United?”

Louis scoffs. “Man-U obviously. If you say Liverpool, I might have to leave.” 

Harry looks affronted. “As if I’d be a Liverpool fan! Manchester and _proud_ , sweetheart,” he says. 

Sweetheart. Louis’ heart stutters traitorously. “Good,” he says firmly, tamping down his flusteredness. Harry is oblivious to his affected state, mindlessly stretching his arms out before folding them underneath his head. 

It strikes him suddenly then that Harry’s upper arms are fully exposed. 

And have been exposed this whole time. 

Before he can think it over, his eyes traipse over his muscled upper arms, breath catching when his eyes find it immediately. _Louis Tomlinson_.

His heart stops. 

With a rough exhale, he studies the soulmark. It’s much smaller than his own but still prominent and bold. And it is unquestionably _his_ messy scrawl running along the length of Harry’s upper arm, in the crease between his bicep and tricep. A lump forms in his throat, clawing up any words and unfurling a hidden weight in his stomach that he never knew existed. 

Because there it is: his name. His soulmark. Well, _Harry’s_ soulmark, but still his name. It’s kind of funny, Louis has always known soulmates and soulmarks existed. He’s seen his own soulmark on his skin nearly every morning for the past eight years without fail. He’s been well aware one day he’d find his own handwriting engraved in the skin of someone else’s body. 

But seeing it is an entirely different experience. 

It _exists._ It exists and it’s _real_ and it’s on Harry’s arm and it’s small compared to the size of his bicep but it’s vivid and striking and it’s simultaneously the worst and best thing he’s ever seen. 

He doesn’t realize he’s been staring until Harry shifts. His eyes snap away, face burning. “Sorry,” he blurts, mortified at his loss of common sense and self-control. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’re all curious,” says Harry. “Where’s yours?”

Louis blushes again, even more embarrassed. How does he explain the unusual size of Harry’s own signature on his body? He can’t, he supposes. And since he’s seen Harry’s, it’s only fair to show Harry his. 

Harry mistakes his reluctance for something else. “It’s not… like, on your-” He gestures low on Louis’ body. 

“No!” exclaims Louis, flushing even more. “Um.” He sits up and Harry follows suit. With a deep breath, he shifts to face Harry and slowly pulls up the black material of his sweatshirt. 

Harry’s eyes flash before sharpening, undoubtedly speechless upon seeing the unapologetically large, looping brand of Louis’ soulmark. They’re both completely silent save for the sounds of quiet breathing as Harry continues to stare. His skin prickles under the weight of his assessment but he doesn’t move- can’t move. It’s like he’s been pinned in place by the lazor of Harry’s gaze. 

“It’s really big,” he says finally, voice impossibly deep and thick with an unknown depth. His eyes flicker up to latch onto Louis’ nervous ones. Louis isn’t sure, but he’s got the faint feeling Harry’s green eyes are somehow darker than they were moments ago. “Is it a hassle having it so big?”

Louis’ throat feels dry. “Uh… not really,” he says honestly. Harry is still staring at him intensely. He feels something unwind in his lower stomach. “S’just a bit obvious.”

“Obvious,” echoes Harry slowly. Louis nearly shivers at the low timbre of his voice. Slowly, he pulls the black material back down. Harry’s eyes don’t leave him through the movement. 

Slightly panicky, he breaks their stare-off to grab his bag of sour patch kids. 

He holds it out to Harry in question. 

Harry shakes his head. “Not the biggest fan of sour stuff.” He smirks. “Well, some more than others.”

Louis ignores the lewd joke and takes out three sour patch kids. He’s breaking his own rules, but he’s so desperate to move past the awkward tension, that he figures it’s worth it. 

Right as he swallows and opens his mouth to ask Harry another question, a phone buzzes, ringing through the air and startling him. Harry pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning. “Shit,” he says. “I have to go.”

“No worries,” Louis says. 

Harry stands up, looking down at Louis with amusement. “I’ll probably see you soon.”

Louis nods. “That seems to be the case.”

“Have a good day, Louis.”

“You too!” Louis calls out as Harry slips his earbuds in and jogs back to the sidewalk. He waits a few minutes as Harry disappears from view before returning to his laptop with a sigh. 

His eyes blur over the last couple of paragraphs he edited, finding himself utterly unmotivated to continue. Instead, he thinks about Harry. 

And the way he was looking at him when Louis showed him his soulmark. 

It might be all in his head, or maybe not. Maybe it’s impossible for soulmates to not be affected by the other, even if it’s not romantically. 

_Platonic soulmates_ , he remembers. That’s the peak of what they’ll ever be to each other. 

Louis sighs. 

When he returns to the flat and Zayn asks him how editing went, he just says, “I had a surprisingly good time but it ended too soon.” 

-

“Louis?” asks a voice. 

Louis hums, looking up at the person who’s interrupted his editing sprint. Then he freezes, mouth slackening. “Luke,” he manages to get out, stunned. This has definitely never happened before. 

Luke smiles at him. He holds up a stack of papers, “I got this request from Dean to review these manuscript proposals and he told me to find someone to do half of them.” 

His heart pounds. “And you picked me?” he blurts before he can think better of it. 

The man shrugs. “A lot of them are romances so I figured you’d enjoy it.”

Louis can’t deny that his heart swelled at the comment. Luke _remembered._ Granted, it had only been about two weeks, but the fact that he made note of it and then instantly thought of Louis when he received the assignment made him blush. “Yeah of course,” he says. Luke hands him the top half and Louis flashes him a friendly smile. 

Luke moves to turn away and Louis spontaneously decides to be bold for once, “Hey, Luke!”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we could go over our decisions over lunch on Sunday?” he proposes. 

Luke nods. “Sure, here, put in your number.” Louis’ heart pounds as Luke hands him his phone, fingers shaking as he inputs his information. He feels electric. He did that. 

He just asked Luke to go get lunch with him- it’s work-related, true, but it’s progress! And now Luke has his number! Take that, Zayn!

“Thanks, Louis. See you,” he says, before walking off. Louis calls out a quieter, “See you,” in reply but Luke doesn’t seem to hear him. Not that it matters, thinks Louis, a giddy smile on his face. 

He slumps in his seat, dreamy-eyed and breathless. 

-

“Harry!” Louis exclaims in surprise. It’s been a while since he’s seen him- and by that Louis means it’s been about three days. He saw Harry briefly on Wednesday when he and Zayn went to the movies and Harry and Niall exited the theater right as they walked in. But Niall and Harry were in a rush so the conversation was quick. Zayn interrogated Louis on their past few meetings afterward, offended that Louis hadn’t mentioned them (he doesn’t even know why, it just didn’t feel right). 

The man is sitting cross-legged in comfy clothes, surrounded by a horde of mewling kittens looking absolutely adorable. It's so unfair.

Harry looks up, shooting him a grin. “Louis.”

“What’re you doing here?” Louis asks, cocking a hip. It’s his usual volunteer day at the shelter and he woke up bright and early to come and help Sarah with paperwork and adoption counseling with a few anxious but interested customers. After a long four hours holed up in that office, he’s been looking forward to spending his final two hours cuddling with the babies. 

Oasis Animal Shelter has been a solid part of Louis’ life for about three years now. He’s been volunteering every two weeks (and even more during the summer) without fail and the shelter along with its inhabitants and employees have become an outlet for love and passion for him. He’s close with the owner, Mrs. Dubois and her daughter, Sarah, of course but he’s also met so many incredible people through volunteering, most notably Liam. 

And of course, nothing beats the satisfaction and pure pride he feels when a pet is rescued, saved, helped, and/or adopted. A lot of good work has been done in this business and he’s proud to be a part of it. 

“Liam’s been nagging me to come and volunteer for a long time and I figured I might as well because I’m in between cases and these next couple of weeks are going to be the least busy they’ve been for a while,” says Harry. He picks up a fluffy black kitty with one large hand. “These kittens are adorable.” 

“They are,” Louis agrees, sitting down. He holds out his arms, a couple of the precious creatures recognizing him and immediately barrelling into him, purring. He picks up his favorite (even though he adores them all), a little kitty named Snowball who’s missing a chunk in his left ear and who doesn’t really like any of the employees except Louis and occasionally Sarah (but she has to bribe him with treats so Louis is secure in his superiority). “Little Snowball, I missed you,” he coos. 

Harry is looking at him with an unreadable expression when he glances back at him. He blushes. 

“Where’s Liam?” he asks, trying to move past the awkward moment. 

“Out walking the dogs with those two guys- um, I forgot their names,” says Harry sheepishly. “He left me all alone, but I’m not complaining.” 

Andrew and James probably. Louis nods. 

They fall into a comfortable silence in which they play with the kittens and pet them lovingly while exchanging equally content looks every once in a while. They switch a few times- well, except for Snowball though Harry gives his best effort in winning her over. Louis is smug when he gives in. “It’s like you’ve hypnotized her,” mutters Harry bitterly. “With superpowers.”

“Yup, it’s because I’m half-fairy,” Louis jokes. He looks up when Harry doesn’t respond. Harry is studying him unabashedly. 

“I see it,” he says. 

Well, okay then. 

When the time runs out, it just seems natural for Harry to invite Louis to go get food with him. They walk to a nearby place that Harry raves about and upon Harry’s request, Louis explains the plot of the last book he edited. 

They sit down at one of the outside tables even though it’s unbearably cold. Louis is wrapped in plenty of layers but Harry’s only in a thin long-sleeve shirt. “I don’t really get cold,” he says with a shrug. “People say I’m a human furnace.”

Louis ignores the urge to test that claim. 

They talk a little bit more about themselves. Harry is shocked when he reveals he has six siblings, joking that he can barely handle his one sister. Louis laughs at Harry regaling him with his best impersonation of Niall when he’s drunk. Harry talks a bit about his work too and Louis listens interestedly. Things progress smoothly, until... 

“What about your boyfriend?” Harry raises an eyebrow curiously. 

“My- oh, Luke, what about him?” he asks nervously. He had forgotten about his stupidly made bluff. 

“Does he come volunteer with you?”

Louis blinks, panicking a little bit. Stay calm, he tells himself. “Um… yeah sometimes. He’s usually busy though.”

“Oh?” says Harry, eyebrow raised. There’s something in his voice that rubs Louis the wrong way. 

“Yeah, well, we work together so I see him plenty,” says Louis defensively. Why he feels the need to defend a false relationship is beyond him, but he’s already crossed the line so why not ground his feet a little bit. 

“Well working isn’t exactly a good source for romance,” Harry comments. 

“Depends on who you’re with,” says Louis airily. “Trust me, Luke and I have a very enjoyable time working together.” He stiffens, eyes widening as he realizes how that sounds. 

Harry looks delighted. “Holy shit, I never took you for the type.”

Louis crosses his arms, offended. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not an insult! I just didn’t see you as the kind of person to-”

“Get fucked in my place of work,” Louis finishes flatly. 

Harry grins cockily. “Yeah.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, heart racing. Harry’s technically right- he’s never actually had office sex and he doesn’t know how much he’d enjoy it… except apparently, according to his own big mouth, he’s done it plenty of times. He’d be embarrassed if Harry didn’t look so amused. 

“Can we talk about something else?” he asks. 

“What? Kinks?” says Harry innocently. “Y’know, I’ve always been kind of a-”

“Shut the fuck up,” says Louis. Not for the first time today, he considers how strange it is that their relationship has progressed to the point where Harry feels comfortable talking about Louis’ sex life. It’s all very peculiar. Maybe a soulmate thing. His eyes narrow. “Since we’re soulmates doesn’t that mean we’re the most sexually compatible and our preferences would line up anyway?” He freezes. Maybe that’s not a good thing to mention. 

However, Harry looks intrigued. “So it’s like a cop-out for awkward kink negotiation.” 

Louis blinks. “Riiiight, that’s what the universe planned,” he nods, amused. Internally, he’s screaming at the possibility of Harry and him liking the same stuff in bed- or more accurately, _opposite ends_ of those likes. 

“That’s kind of cool though,” says Harry. He takes a bite of his salad. “Too bad we can’t test it out.”

“Wait, what?” says Louis, taken aback. 

“Well, I mean you’re getting hot sex from your boyfriend already,” Harry jokes. 

“But you’d consider it if I wasn’t?” blurts Louis. God, he really has no brain to mouth filter. “Like, even though you don’t believe in soulmate stuff.”

“Well, in an effort to prove the theory, yeah,” says Harry. “I can’t wax essays on how everything about soulmates is a lie without testing it.”

Louis frowns. “Is that what you’re doing here?”

“Huh?”

“Us hanging out? Are you trying to prove that soulmate matches aren’t always right?” he prompts, trying to sound unaffected. In reality, he feels a little hurt. 

“Uh, not exactly,” says Harry. “But I mean, maybe just that soulbonds don’t have to be specifically romantic all the time, y’know… ”

“Like us, you mean,” says Louis. 

“Yeah. Like, I don’t really see myself with you,” says Harry easily. It comes out casual yet it pierces through Louis’ heart like an arrow, a glaringly obvious rejection.

But Louis didn’t even want to pursue anything with Harry, did he? 

“Right,” he replies belatedly. “Well, I guess platonic soulmates are pretty fine.” 

“Exactly,” says Harry before reaching out for a high-five. Louis smacks his hand gently, trying not to dwell on the size difference which makes his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

Harry holds up his glass of water, “Cheers to friendship.”

He raises his own reluctantly. They clink. “Cheers,” he mumbles. 

-

“What’s going on with you and Harry?” Gigi asks, late Sunday night. 

Louis raises an eyebrow, “Um, what do you mean?”

“That’s who you’re texting right now while smiling like an idiot isn’t it?” says Gigi. 

Automatically, Louis puts his phone down because he had, indeed, been texting Harry. They exchanged numbers the day before after having lunch and they’ve been keeping up a steady back-and-forth throughout the past 30 hours, even when Louis went to lunch with Luke. It was a productive meeting workwise but not so productive romance-wise. 

Louis still hasn’t given up hope though- he can tell Luke at least likes him as a person. He has hope Luke will eventually go from associating Louis as a coworker to associating him as a potential boyfriend- they just need more interactions so he can get the hint. 

“How do you know I’m not texting Zayn?” he says. 

“First of all, Zayn’s literally in the other room,” Gigi says, unimpressed. 

“And? Maybe I missed him,” says Louis stubbornly. 

She rolls her eyes. “ _Second_ , you literally never smile at Zayn’s texts. It’s either a scowl, a smirk, or an eyeroll with him.”

“What’re you talking about? Zaynie’s texts warm my heart!”

“Since when?” asks Zayn, as he very inconveniently enters the room. 

Gigi shoots him a look. “Were you just texting Louis?”

“No?” Zayn says, looking between them with barely concealed confusion. “I’m literally in the other room, why would he text me?”

“I hate you both,” says Louis with a groan. “And since you’re so nosy, _fine_ , I was texting Harry. So what, we’re friends.”

“Friends,” Zayn repeats, disbelief evident. 

“Friends,” Louis parrots. “Platonic soulmates.”

Zayn and Gigi stare at him. 

“What?” he says. “He’s a good guy.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asks Zayn cautiously. 

“Um… yes?” 

They exchange looks again. 

“You guys need to stop doing that,” he says. “It’s getting really fucking annoying.” 

“Look, Lou,” starts Gigi, ignoring him. “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And why would I be getting hurt?” he asks annoyedly. 

“Because you have more feelings for him than he does for you,” says Gigi seriously. 

“That’s ridiculous- I do _not_ have feelings for Harry,” he denies instantly. “I don’t know where you got that idea.”

“You were literally just grinning at your phone a minute ago,” says Gigi impatiently. “You talk about him like you think he’s one of the best people you know... and you only met _two weeks ago_.” 

“When we saw him and Niall at the movie theater on Wednesday, you immediately lit up,” adds Zayn. “You’re never that happy to see me.”

“That’s because I hate you,” says Louis, glowering. “Especially now. I don’t have feelings for Harry, beyond friend feelings.” 

“Okay, if you’re going to be stubborn then we’ll avoid it for now, even though that’s not healthy,” says Gigi pointedly. 

“Thanks so much,” Louis says dryly. 

“Okay, guys. Enough,” says Zayn. “Louis, we’re trying to help you. In case you haven’t realized, Gigi and I are soulmates.”

“ _No,_ really?” Louis retorts sarcastically. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “The point is, we’ve been through the whole getting together process. We know how much soulmates are drawn to each other and as much as you and Harry don’t believe in it, there’s no way you haven’t noticed the emotional pull. Your souls want to be romantically bonded, it’s the way it works.”

“Nowhere in soulmate history or philosophy does it specify that soulmates must be romantic,” says Louis. “Platonic soulmates can exist.”

“Technically, they can,” says Gigi. “But it’s incredibly rare and never talked about, do you know why? Because the bond between soulmates is the strongest bond there is- emotionally and physically, which means choosing a non-soulmate romantically will never compare. Unless you’re aromantic I guess.”

Louis frowns. “Harry’s parents were soulmates and they got divorced.”

Gigi and Zayn look surprised at this. Gigi collects herself quickly, “Well okay, so it doesn’t always work like that, but for 99.9% of people, it does. Loads of people have tried to resist it only to come right back to the other like a moth to a flame. It’s a whole other level of relationship.” 

“Besides, when you think about it, true love is just a few steps above best friends,” Zayn adds. 

He doesn’t respond. 

“We’re not trying to upset you,” Gigi says. “We just don’t want you to get hurt because Harry refuses to acknowledge what we’re trying to get you to acknowledge. From what I know about Harry, he’s stubborn. Kind of like you but a different kind. He’ll refuse to change his mind about his perception and stance on soulmates and I don’t want you to be left behind if it works out that way.” 

“We love you,” Zayn reminds. “And we’ll stop talking about this now so you can think over what we’ve told you.” 

Louis nods. “I love you guys too,” he says quietly. 

“We know,” says Gigi fondly. 

“And remember, if you have any soulmate questions, ask us, the resident soulmates,” says Zayn. “But now let’s talk about something else. How’d lunch with Luke go?” 

“Wait, actually I do have a soulmate question,” exclaims Louis, for some reason not feeling like he wants to gush about his coworker. 

“What is it?” asks Zayn, looking eager. Gigi is equally anticipatory. 

“Is soulmate sex really that great?” he asks, unable to keep the smile from his face. 

They trade looks of exasperation. Perfect for each other, indeed. 

-

Louis is lying in bed, doing a face mask, when he gets the text from Harry. 

**Hey, do you want to get lunch tomorrow?**

He sits up, smiling a bit even though his temporarily restricted face muscles fight against it. He hasn’t seen Harry since a week before because Harry’s gone home to Holmes Chapel to celebrate his birthday with family and old friends. They’ve been texting plenty and Louis sent him a virtual card and dropped off a box of those expensive dark chocolates Harry mentioned he liked once with Niall at their flat. 

It was quite a chase: scouring the stores for the specific brand Harry likes, asking Zayn for Niall’s number, getting their address and dropping it off, making Niall swear not to tell until Harry came back early this morning. Harry already sent him a thank you message complete with a row of heart emojis which Louis reciprocated. 

He hasn’t told Zayn about this recent developments in levels of emojis, especially considering he’s already on Louis about the chocolate thing. It was just a small, thoughtful gift, that’s it!

**_Sure, same place?_ **

**If you want. I’m also kind of craving Greek food.**

**_That sounds good to me :)_ **

**Perfect, see you @ 12 xx**

**_Okie dokie xx_ **

The ‘xx’ was a new development too especially given that the sight of them sends a sharp rush through his insides, leaving him breathless and dazed. Louis puts his phone down and groans. Why does everything have to be so complicated? 

It doesn’t help that Louis and Harry are more in contact than ever. They text all the time: serious things, rants, jokes, funny stories, funny pictures, or other random thoughts all throughout the day. Every text from Harry instantly brightens his mood and puts a smile on his face. Plenty of them also make him pause and just, _think._

It’s way more addicting than it sounds. 

And Louis knows, he _knows_ they’re approaching dangerous territory, but he can’t help it. Harry is magnetic and Louis is literally the one person in the world who's supposed to be the most attracted to them. They’re a magnet pair, in other words. And Louis is having a hard time ignoring it. 

Rather than confronting the issue head on, Louis puts on Complicated by Avril Lavigne and lays back down, forcing himself to ignore his distress and mouth along to one of his favorite singers. 

_I do_ **_not_ ** _have feelings for Harry Styles._

Maybe if he thinks it enough, he’ll law-of-attraction these confusing emotions out of his mind forever. 

-

They go out again a week later- _they,_ being Louis, Harry, Zayn, Niall, and Liam. Gigi has a shoot the next day so she opts out, going through her usual night-prior routine in peace. 

It’s a bustling, up-and-coming new club which has already gained a solid reputation for ambience and their new and most popular selling point: axe throwing. 

Louis is definitely not into things like that but Zayn encouraged him to at least give it a try. Since the teams are uneven, Niall splits them into two teams of him, Liam, and Zayn versus Harry and Louis. 

He is well aware the move was intentional and he’s got a feeling Zayn had a say in it too. That scheming bastard. 

Thankfully, they seem to have the advantage, aka Harry who has been axe-throwing multiple times and can throw ridiculously well. Unfortunately, they also have a disadvantage. Louis. It’s Louis. He has absolutely no idea how to aim properly despite the man explaining how to for at least ten minutes while he observed and listened thoroughly. All that information had gone in one ear and out the other. He hasn’t hit the target yet, not even in the outer ring- all of his throws ended up with his axe bouncing off the wooden board and falling to the floor. 

Louis has botched another point for their side when he gives up, huffing and turning to Harry who’s frowning. “I can’t do this,” he states. “I’m shit.” 

“C’mon, you’re not that bad-”

Louis raises an eyebrow. 

“Okay, it’s pretty bad, but we can fix it,” Harry amends. “Here,” he says, grabbing an axe. He gets into position, raising the axe above his head with one hand and throwing it in a perfect line to the center red circle, scoring five points. Louis stares, unfairly attracted to the way Harry just picked up that axe and threw it so easily. He shakes it off. 

“How does that help me?” he asks, crossing his arms. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Did you see my posture?” 

“No, I was too busy staring at the sharp object you threw at the wall,” says Louis dryly. 

Harry chuckles. “Your turn. I’ll help you adjust. Alright, sweetheart?”

 _Sweetheart_ , another development. Louis would normally protest it but he can’t with Harry. The thrill that ignites in him whenever Harry utters the name is too good to give up. 

So Louis just hums in assent, very sure this is not going to work. He grabs an axe and steps up to the throwing point. A hand latches onto his shoulder. 

“Wait,” Harry says. He stills automatically, goosebumps prickling his skin under Harry’s iron grip. “Hold it with two hands instead of one, okay? It’ll be less heavy.” He nods slowly, sucking in a breath when Harry steps closer, hands coming down to reposition his own. They hide Louis’ smaller hands almost fully from view and the sight makes Louis’ throat dry. Harry is careful as he wills Louis to loosen his hold where he’s got them clenched against the wood. His skin is warm against his, hands gentle and soft as they place Louis’ right hand above his left on the ‘throat of the handle’ and uncurl his thumbs to point towards the ‘poll’. 

“Raise it above your hands,” Harry directs, voice smooth and sliding like honey into his ears. He’s moved closer, so close Louis can feel his body heat transfer to his back even though there’s still a few inches between them. He raises the axe slowly, painfully quiet as Harry breathes harshly above him. 

It’s never been more transparent just how much bigger Harry is than him. Taller, broader, and overwhelming in every way. 

Harry’s hands once again help him reposition. They’re fleeting, professional touches yet they leave Louis reeling, the imprints of Harry’s thumbs burning in the skin of his arms and making him shudder internally. Harry takes a small step back, but he’s still much too close. Louis’ senses heighten dramatically. He probably looks rigid, standing there completely frozen and stunned. “Okay, when you throw, look directly at the target. You’re going to rock backwards first to gain momentum. When you rock forwards, swing and let go, but throw _hard_ , Lou.” 

He’s whispering yet his voice still drowns out the sound of everything else in the loud club. All Louis is aware of is Harry’s voice and Harry’s warmth. And Harry’s hands as they once again touch him- this time gently massaging his shoulders. “Untense,” he says. Louis relaxes slowly, breathing shallow. “Straighten up.” A few fingers ghost over his spine, leaving invisible stamps in their place. He adjusts his posture, swallowing thickly. 

Harry steps back fully this time, leaving Louis aching from the loss. But he maintains the position, determined to hit the target this time. 

With a deep breath, he finds his target, then rocks back and then forward like Harry said, swinging the axe and throwing. He tenses when the feel of the weapon leaves his fingertips, eyes frozen straight ahead as the axe cuts through the innermost ring. 

Four. He got four points. 

He hit the target. 

“Oh my god,” he says right as Harry barrels into him with a cheer. He laughs gleefully as Harry’s arms come around him and then he’s being squeezed to his chest, practically scooped off his feet as Harry enthusiastically embraces him. It takes him a moment to fully process the feel of Harry’s arms around him, strong and warm, and the smell of his cologne and his curls tickling his temple and the sensation of Harry’s firm chest pressing up against him. He is suddenly and overwhelmingly paralyzed with lust. 

_Oh my god,_ he thinks. _Fuck._

Harry lets him go after that, sauntering off to go jeer at Niall, Zayn, and Liam who are a few points behind in the set up next to theirs. 

Wait- Zayn!

He turns to meet his best friend’s raised eyebrow and crossed arms. _Platonic soulmates_ he mouths, disbelief palpable even silently. 

Louis doesn’t have a valid retort to that because Zayn is right. He’s right. Louis doesn’t want to be platonic soulmates with Harry any longer. Every time he sees him, he gets more entranced. When they had lunch last Sunday and Harry made him laugh so hard, he started choking on water and Harry had to rub his back to get him to help him recover and Louis had to fight not to whimper at the strength in his touch. 

On Wednesday when Harry invited Louis to his flat for the first time and they made pasta together (Harry taking the lead because on top of everything else, he _cooks_ too) and then watched a movie that ended up being forgotten as they got into a lively debate about the state of current Hollywood productions. 

On Friday evening when Louis bumped into him at the grocery store and they teamed up to track down the oddly specific brand of nacho cheese Niall wanted. They made up stories about the people shopping around them including a middle-aged man who was sneering at the selection of bread who Harry claimed was bitter because he’s allergic to bread which is a tragedy because bread is the best food ever and proceeded to support that assertion with ridiculous evidence until Louis was giggling and one of the employees currently restocking jams was looking at them weird. 

And through all these interactions, Louis never once thought of Luke. 

And now it’s Saturday evening and Louis is crumbling under the weight of this revelation which he’s done his best to avoid for so long. 

He’s got it bad for Harry Styles. 

He’s got it bad for his _soulmate._

If he were anyone else with any other soulmate, it’d be a happy realization. For him, it’s a bittersweet one. 

Even more bittersweet when they crowd into a booth with a round of drinks and Harry gets up to go flirt with a woman two tables down. Louis watches with a lump in his throat that slowly expands as Harry leans in close to this mystery woman, smirking and licking his lips. Physically pained when she stands up on her tip-toes to whisper seductively in his ear and then they both disappear- Harry’s beautiful hand placed firmly over the small of her back. 

Who knows where they’re going or what they’re doing- if she’ll get him off or he’ll get her off or both. If they’ll sleep together and not just mess around in the toilets. If Harry will whisper dirty words into her ear that make her shiver in anticipation. If Harry will run those hands over her body reverently and deliberately like he does with everything he considers worthwhile. If he’ll be slow and meticulous as he fucks her or frantic and rough. Louis is sick with imagining every cruel possibility. 

But he can’t blame her at least. Harry looks like sin and charms like the devil. No one can resist. Not Louis, not that girl, nor anyone else Harry has been with. Nor anyone else who’ll come in the future. 

He doesn’t realize his mourning is being witnessed until Niall clears his throat. He turns to focus on three very concerned faces. A blush forms on his cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” he mumbles. 

He’s not. But none of them call him out on it. 

Louis is especially worried that Niall caught him staring at Harry longingly when the man is supposedly under the impression he’s dating someone but then Niall admits that he knows Louis isn’t dating someone because Zayn accidentally let it slip (Zayn looks sheepish and guilty but Louis isn’t mad, it’s honestly a relief). 

Harry doesn’t come back, texting the four of them to have fun without him and a winky face. Reading it feels like nails running down a chalkboard. But Louis knows he’ll have to get used to it because it’s only going to happen again, and again, and again. 

Until far in the future when Harry will inevitably decide to settle down once and for all and he chooses someone for himself. 

Someone who isn’t Louis. 

-

It’s Wednesday evening, but more importantly, it’s _Valentine’s Day_ and he’s on his way to Harry’s. 

After Louis realized faking his boyfriend during the iconic love holiday could be potentially problematic, he decided to tell Harry he and Luke broke up. It’s not too far from the case. Louis hasn’t really talked to Luke in the past two weeks save for one brief interaction when he really did go to the break room for tea and Luke was making his coffee. 

All of the attraction- the weird two-year infatuation he had for the man, is _gone_. Maybe it’s never been there in the first place. Zayn was right again, Louis really didn’t know Luke that well and what he did know of him was fine, but not enough to warrant his delusional obsession for the past couple of years. He was kidding himself really. Too afraid to pursue actual relationships that he kept clinging to a fantasy that he probably always internally knew would never come to pass. 

He feels so stupid. 

He feels even stupider for doing this to himself. For going along with Harry’s eager plans to help Louis distract himself from his heartbreak by inviting him over for a Friends Valentine’s Day while he remains blissfully oblivious to Louis’ growing feelings. 

Every touch, whether intentional or accidental, every look, every smile just joins the slowly growing part of his heart that beats solely in a pattern of _harryharryharryharry_. Louis is helpless but to fall deeper. He’s pretty sure he’s quickly approaching the point of no return. 

Harry buzzes him up and he takes the elevator to the sixth floor. When he steps out, Harry is already leaning up against his door twenty feet away, a soft smile on his face. He’s dressed in sweats and a black shirt, comfortable and still sexy as ever. 

When Louis comes closer, he sees the red nail polish on his nails. It matches the red eyeshadow Louis had anxiously applied last minute, not wanting to see Harry on Valentine’s Day without making some sort of visual effort to catch Harry’s eye.

“Louis,” Harry greets. “Nice makeup.”

“Harry,” says Louis. “Thanks.” He holds up his bag awkwardly. “I brought dessert.”

Harry looks delighted as he takes in the familiar logo of the bakery he’s gushed about so many times before. “What’d you get?”

“That’s a surprise, Harold,” says Louis, squeezing past Harry and stepping into the flat. Niall and Harry have a nice, large place, product of pooling a lawyer and physician assistant’s salary. It’s wide and open with lots of windows and access to natural lights and a lot of plants and artful decor, most of which Louis can easily recognize as being Harry’s tastes. “So what’s the plan?” he asks. 

“We’re making dinner and then watching a film and getting drunk,” says Harry. “I’ve got lots of wine in the cabinet.” 

“Sounds good to me.”

They decide on pasta even though that’s what they made last time. Except Harry wants to _make_ the pasta which leads to a very flustered and sexually frustrated Louis watching as Harry makes and then kneads the dough before rolling it all out in an annoyingly seductive manner and using one of those pasta roller things to cut them. He doesn’t know why the whole process is so enchanting. Maybe it’s just because it’s Harry- with his intense eyes and look of concentration and his deep, rumbling voice as he explains every step he takes to Louis in great detail. 

And his hands. They’re so damn sexy, Louis can’t even describe it. 

They don’t speak much while they work. ABBA is blasting on the speakers and Louis is humming along, yelping when Harry slides an arm around his waist and spins him around. His heart flutters, eyes widening as Harry takes his hand and they begin to faux waltz around the kitchen. Louis grips Harry’s shoulder probably a little too hard, but Harry doesn’t complain. He whirls them around the spacious kitchen, belting out the lyrics to Knowing Me, Knowing You with his arm still firm around his waist. 

Their points of contact burn on Louis’ skin. This is certainly not making things any easier. Eventually he convinces Harry to return to pasta making, hiding his blush as he continues mixing up ingredients for homemade marinara sauce. 

Belatedly, he remembers that he needs oregano to season and goes to get it from the spice cabinet. It’s too high up for him so he begrudgingly asks Harry to get it for him, ignoring his smug smile. “I’m not short,” he denies afterwards. “I’m just trying to make you feel useful.” 

Harry snorts. “Right.”

Louis huffs at his disbelieving tone. “I’m 5’9-”

“You’re 5’7-”

“And a half!” Louis finishes indignantly. He pouts, arms crossed. 

“That’s only when your hair is standing up,” Harry says teasingly. 

Louis scowls at him. “Shut the fuck up.” He turns around, sticking up his nose brattily. He shrieks when two large hands grip him by the waist and hoist him into the air. He grips the backs of Harry’s hands frantically, heart pounding and feet dangling helplessly. He’s painfully aware of every point of contact between Harry’s hands and his hips including the small sliver of bare skin on skin where his sweater has ridden up. 

“Now you’re taller than me,” says Harry smugly. He sets Louis down gently, patting his head fondly.

Louis doesn’t have the capacity to snap back, returning to the sauce with a light flush on his face and nearly knocking over the oregano bottle. 

Undeterred by any difficulties, the pasta turns out delicious and they chat easily through dinner. At one point Louis goes on a rant about how the book he’s currently editing is definitely going to be a bestseller because the premise is original and the writing is _so fucking good and fresh, it’s unbelievable._ When he looks up, Harry is staring at him with an almost fond look on his face. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Nothing, it’s just that you get this look on your face whenever you talk about the novels you’re working on,” says Harry thoughtfully. “Even when it’s one that’s boring you- you’re still so determined to improve it. It’s like… you can tell you’re completely dedicated to your job. You genuinely want to make these books better and help these authors as much as possible. I think that’s pretty amazing. Whoever gets you as their editor is incredibly lucky.” 

Louis stares, heart warmed. “Thanks, Harry. That means a lot.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s just something I noticed.” Then he returns to his food like he didn’t just say something so thoughtfully intuitive and sweet. And to make matters worse, he’s not finished. “I can’t wait for you to finally show me some of your own writing because I bet it’s fantastic.”

He can’t stop the blush and he can’t stop the heart fluttering so he just embraces it. 

After dinner, they migrate to the living room and Harry takes control of the remote. “What’re we feeling? A romcom to drag to make ourselves feel better or something absolutely unromantic. Like a horror movie.”

“Horror movie,” says Louis. He can’t watch a romance right now or he’ll self-combust. “Except I get scared easily.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” says Harry with a grin. 

Louis screams internally. 

They settle onto the big couch, a mere foot in between them. They haven’t been shy with touching since their friendship strengthened, especially Harry who’s naturally very tactile, but cuddling hasn’t happened yet. Louis has a worrying feeling that they will tonight. And he has no idea how he’ll survive. 

The movie starts out okay. It’s one Harry’s seen before, but a long time ago. Louis is tense, anxiously awaiting the first jump scare. Harry pats his shoulder reassuringly after he flinches accidentally for the third time. “I’ll warn you if something’s about to happen, relax,” says Harry. 

“Easier said than done,” he mutters. 

As expected, the movie gets progressively more and more scary and Louis finds himself feeling antsy and stressed. However, he does his best to hide it because Harry is already glancing at him with concern every few seconds and even worse, he’s scooted over a little bit so now he’s barely half a foot away. Those six inches crackle with tension. 

There’s a particularly gruesome scene which involves a child that has Louis quivering. He’s so distraught, he doesn’t even react when Harry rids the remaining space between them and slides an arm around his waist, pulling him into his side. He buries his face in Harry’s t-shirt in embarrassment, breathing in the scent of his familiar Tom Ford cologne. 

“It’s okay, Lou,” whispers Harry, running a gentle hand over his hair. “Do you want to watch something else?”

He shakes his head quietly, nuzzling into his warmth. “If that’s the worst, then I’ll watch the rest.” 

“It is the worst,” Harry confirms. He wraps Louis up tighter. “Feel free to cry.”

“Dick.”

After the movie, Louis proposes they bring out the wine and have dessert, wanting to drown out the last two hours of his memory as soon as possible. They devour the cheesecake quickly and then toast to singledom and each downing a glass of wine in record time. 

Louis doesn’t want to get fully drunk (too afraid of the risk), but getting tipsy was definitely in the plan. Harry however, seems to have no qualms with getting absolutely plastered. They pass the bottle back and forth on the couch despite Harry’s usual paranoia about the couch and put on Friends. 

Whispering comments to the other during a movie or show is a common practice for the two of them, which means Louis recognizes when Harry’s voice begins to slur and his eyelids grow heavy, well into their third bottle. He, himself, is pleasantly buzzed, but still fully coherent. He can’t say the same for Harry, especially when he starts yelling at Ross on the TV. 

“No one likes you!” he heckles, words almost unintelligible. He finishes off the bottle next and mimes throwing it at the screen. Louis’ mouth drops open, appalled at Harry’s state. It’s entertaining but he’s never seen Harry this out of it. He’s pretty sure Harry’s had about seven glasses worth of liquid courage, face flushed and glistening with sweat. 

“Okay, H. I think you need some water,” Louis says. He gets up to retrieve a glass for Harry only to be stopped by Harry’s arm gripping his wrist. For a second he just stares, entranced at the sight of Harry’s two fingers completely encompassing the circumference of the joint. It sends a shiver down his spine. “Harry, let go. You need water.”

Harry’s frowning. “Don’t go, Lou.”

“I’m just getting you water,” says Louis gently. He attempts to prie his fingers off but it’s impossible. Harry isn’t letting go. “Babe, just give me a second okay?” he says, the term of affection just slipping out. 

“Babe,” Harry repeats, glassy eyed. He releases Louis’ water, licking his lips. “Water. I need water,” he says, more like demands. Louis rolls his eyes. 

“No shit,” he mutters, going to the kitchen and filling up a glass. He forces Harry to drink it all but he resists, sticking his tongue out at him like a child. 

Louis groans when Harry knocks the glass over and the cold water spills to the hardwood floor and over his bare feet. “Look what you’ve done!”

Harry assesses the situation with a frown. “Oh.”

Louis grabs a towel and wipes it up. He moves to stand, only to be tugged backwards. Suddenly he’s in Harry’s lap. He stiffens. 

Harry buries his head in his neck from behind, lips tickling his skin as he whispers, “You smell so good.”

“It’s perfume,” he whispers, cheeks hot. He knows that Harry's always been a cuddly drunk but he's never been on the receiving end to this extent. 

Harry makes a sound, lips ghosting up over his shoulder and to the nape of his neck where he bites down. Louis stifles a yelp, shocked. “Smell so good and look so pretty. Pretty face, pretty makeup, pretty. And small,” he says nonsensically. “So small and sweet, doll.”

Doll? “Harry,” he says, struggling to his feet. Harry’s arm encircles his waist, squeezing.

“Don’t go,” he whispers. “Don’t go, baby.”

Sweetheart. Doll. Baby. What the hell?

“I’m just going to sit down a few feet away,” he explains, still flushing. 

“No, you’ll sit on my lap,” Harry says firmly, shaking his head. “You belong on my lap.”

His heart stutters. What is he saying? 

“Harry, you’re drunk,” says Louis authoritatively. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” It hurts but it’s true. Sober Harry would never say these things so Louis can’t believe them. He struggles against Harry’s grip. “Harry, let _go_.” 

The distress in his voice must break through because his arms slacken and Louis is able to stand up, heart racing. He averts his eyes. “It’s time to go to bed I think.”

Harry crosses his arms petulantly. “No.”

With a sigh, Louis prepares himself for the challenge he knows this is about to be. He grabs Harry’s hand. “C’mon, Harold.” 

Harry doesn’t budge even when Louis pulls his hardest. In fact, he intertwines their fingers and holds tightly. Louis freezes as the gesture, beyond frazzled at Harry’s bizarre behavior. 

“I don’t want to.”

Louis thinks, biting his lip and avoiding the way Harry’s eyes immediately track the movement, darkening in color. “If you go to bed, I’ll let you hold me,” he says finally. He’s not sure if that’s a good enough incentive but-

“Okay,” says Harry, standing up. He sways a little, free arm flailing out helplessly. 

“C’mon, H,” Louis coaxes. He gently leads Harry to the hallway, the man only managing to stumble twice. He scans the doors for Harry’s room which he’s never seen but he’s sure he’ll be able to distinguish easily. 

He’s right. Harry’s room looks exactly as he imagined: minimalistic yet homey with an open layout, a large bed, bookshelves crammed with loads of well-loved spines, eccentric yet fascinating pieces of art adorning the walls, and a guitar case leaning up against the side. Louis nudges Harry until he lays down on the bed, splaying his limbs out. Louis swallows, the true impact of being alone in Harry’s room near his bed starting to kick in. 

On the bright side, Harry seems to be tiring out. However, he didn’t forget Louis’ promise. He opens his arms and Louis reluctantly puts a knee on the bed. _This is a bad idea_ , he thinks. But Harry grabs him by the forearm and yanks him onto him before he can think about running. 

Arms come around him in a tight embrace. Harry rests his head on top of Louis’ gently, humming a random song under his breath. He exhales, the movement being felt distinctly against Louis’ ribs. Louis tries to relax, willing his heart to slow. This is platonic cuddling. Obviously. 

But then Harry slides a hand under the hem of his sweater, fingers skimming across his skin. He sucks in a breath as he stops abruptly over his soulmark. “Mine,” Harry whispers, fingertips pressing into the ink deliberately. 

Louis nearly whimpers. 

Out, he needs to get out. Before he melts into oblivion in Harry’s arms. It doesn’t sound like a bad way to go, but ultimately, the image of regret and disgust on Harry’s face if he stays and Harry inevitably sobers up wins. 

So he waits until Harry’s fallen mostly lax before slipping out of his grip. Harry makes a wounded noise, hands reaching out for him subconsciously even though his eyes are shut. Hastily, Louis pulls the duvet over his body, tucking in it around the now-sleeping man. Then he takes a few steps back, inhaling deeply. 

Louis bites his fist as he memorizes the peaceful expression on Harry’s face. His eyes trace over the slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the curve of his cupid’s bow, the little wrinkle between his brows and the stray curl hanging over his forehead. He commits the picture to memory, knowing he’ll never be able to have it again. 

Then he creeps out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He sinks to the floor, tears gathering in his eyes despite his best efforts. The past ten minutes is the closest Louis has gotten to having his soulmate- or rather, having his soulmate the way he wants to have him. 

But that’s just the thing. Harry is drunk. He was drunk through the whole thing and he probably won’t even remember it in the morning. Louis refuses to take anything drunk Harry did or said to heart because even if he truly means it, he’s never said it or given any sign of showing romantic feelings to Louis coherently. Which means, while he’s in control of his actions and words, he chooses not to do those things. It doesn’t matter that he may have some sort of physical attraction repressed in his mind. He never takes action on it sober. Because when he’s sober, he’s firmly against submitting to the idea of soulmates. Even if soulmates naturally have an instilled attraction towards each other, Harry never acts on it. 

He actively and frequently _chooses_ not to pursue Louis romantically. 

Which means Louis has to forget this ever happened, and find a way to get over it and Harry himself. 

-

In spite of his breakdown in Harry’s flat, once again he doesn’t actually do anything about it. Harry calls him sometime during work, voice raspy from the hangover and groaning from his headache. “Lou,” he says weakly. 

“Harry,” Louis replies, throat dry. 

“Everything hurts. I’m in so much pain,” he complains.

“That’s sort of the thing about getting piss drunk,” Louis says, smiling. 

Harry groans. “I didn’t say anything weird, did I?” he asks curiously, not sounding too worried about it. Louis bites his lip. So Harry doesn’t remember anything. 

“No,” he says. Technically, it’s true. He couldn’t call Harry’s behavior the night before embarrassing when it’s literally the substance of many of Louis’ dreams. “Not at all.”

“Great,” says Harry. “Thank you, by the way. For taking care of me.”

Louis bites his lip even more harshly. “No problem.”

“I called in sick at work for the first time in my history with the organization but they aren’t mad. I just feel like shit and I need to wallow in it for a little while,” continues Harry. 

“That’s good. You should take care of yourself and rest,” says Louis somewhat sternly. He himself is nursing a minor headache too but nothing unbearable. Definitely nowhere near the level of misery Harry is currently enduring. 

“You should come over after work today and help me go over notes,” says Harry casually. 

Louis grimaces. “Sure,” he says anyway. It isn’t something he needs to think about. He’s easy for Harry, he realizes. He never wants to tell him no. 

Except when he did the night before… 

“See you then,” says Harry. “Have fun editing.”

“Have fun suffering,” Louis retorts with a smile. 

Harry groans. “Fuck off.”

When Harry hangs up, he drops his head to the cool surface of his desk and groans. Fuck the universe and fuck soulmates. 

And most of all, fuck Harry Styles. 

He does his best to concentrate on the novel he’s reading- it’s a YA coming-of-age which is right up his alley but he can’t help but compare the love interest in the book to Harry. And at lunch when he goes out with Jem and Tom (he figures there’s no reason to stay holed up in the office on lunch break anymore since he’s no longer interested in Luke), he can’t help but compare his conversations with them (which, to be fair, are objectively nice) to his conversations with Harry. And then he comes back to work and the same manuscript before with the love interest who’s intriguing but nowhere near as interesting or charming as Harry is to him. 

He’s definitely passed the threshold of no return. 

-

When he arrives at Harry’s flat, he witnesses one of the sides of Harry he admires the most: lawyer-at-work Harry. He’s going over notes for a case on the dining table, completely focused and invested in the research and premise. 

Louis doesn’t want to disrupt him, so he sets up a spot across from him, deciding to wrap up a few more chapters of editing and maybe work on one of his freelance pieces. They work in complete silence and to be honest, Louis kind of forgets Harry’s there for a while. He’s sure Harry has done the same. They’re both wholly engrossed in their own work yet it still feels like they’re being busy _together_. Like they’re not alone.

Eventually they both take breaks where they switch. Louis reads through Harry’s notes and asks questions which Harry answers happily. And Harry reads through his article draft, fixing grammar and punctuation mistakes or pointing out something Louis could potentially add. 

It’s comfortable and almost domestic in a way. Like they’re dating and just helping each other out. Louis can’t help but wonder what life would be like if they could always have this. But he knows the truth so he sticks with pretending. 

However, that temporary bliss ends when Harry receives a phone call that elicits a smirk from his lips. He mumbles an excuse and takes it to the other room. Louis doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he catches the tail end, “Come over tonight whenever.”

And there it is. The universe’s daily taunt. Flaunting the harsh truth that Louis will never be anything more than a best friend to Harry. Best friend. That’s what Harry calls him right before he leaves an hour later. 

“You’re my best friend,” he says, hugging Louis quickly. “I mean, Niall’s my best friend too but we have a special connection, don’t we?” Louis is so stunned, he isn’t able to respond verbally. He just nods jerkily, hoping it somehow conveys a “You too.”

And then he slunks downstairs to the car, dejected. 

_I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips_

He is Louis in Red now apparently. 

-

Niall and Louis get closer. It’s not a quick change. February comes to a close and glides into March; suddenly Louis has known Harry for two months. The most heart wrenching two months of his life and that includes the two months after he and Seb broke up. 

Harry’s looser schedule from the past month closes up again and he’s working more and more, stressed about the drama with the government spying on Amnesty International communications (“This is a threat to the company and especially to our more vulnerable sources, Lou. People might die!” He wasn’t even exaggerating when he said it, which concerned Louis the most). So when Louis comes to the flat to hang out, he usually ends up talking to Niall quite a bit as Harry furiously scribbles down notes and squints at confidential reports in his office. 

Louis checks in on him of course, reminding him that he doesn’t have to finish everything today and sometimes bringing him a snack or glass of water and forcing him to eat/drink, positive this urgent desire to take care of Harry is a product of their soulmate bond whether Harry believes in it or not. Mostly he gives Harry the space he needs in order to be productive- it’s almost insane, the way Louis can tell immediately upon stepping into the flat whether Harry will be a bit more free for conversation and hanging out or even more piled up than usual and in need of isolation. 

Harry thanks him profusely for his unwavering support and toleration every time, promising that when his schedule clears up again, he’ll make it up to Louis and Louis knows he’ll keep that promise. 

But until then, hanging out with Niall is fun. 

They end up laughing more often than not and every work story Niall tells brings a smile to Louis’ face. Not to mention, it’s much easier to talk about his soulmate woes with him than Zayn because Niall is in the same boat of wanting your soulmate but not getting to have them (in Niall’s case that’s because they haven’t met yet but the pining factor is still present). During their now frequent kitchen table hot chocolate chats, Louis finds himself confessing his two year crush on Luke that stems from something other than desire for him as a person. 

“It sounds like you were trying to convince yourself for so long that it was better to choose someone instead of waiting for a soulmate,” Niall observes, hands wrapped around his meg cutely. 

“That’s exactly what it was,” Louis says gloomily. “I was afraid for so long that it wouldn’t be like everyone else said it would be. It sounded too good to be true. But it’s not. And now that I’ve realized I actually do want my soulmate, I still can’t have him.”

Niall winces in sympathy. “You two make quite the pair. One of you doesn’t believe in soulmates and the other has been afraid of them.” 

“Not anymore,” says Louis glumly. He almost wishes he still was, even living life through that cynical gray lense was better than this. The perpetual lump he has in his throat and the hurt that claws up every time Harry emphasizes their friendship, or talks about a hook-up, or looks at him that certain way: fond and affectionate yet detached. Platonic. 

God, Louis despises that word more than anything now. 

“You don’t think he’ll ever change his mind, will he?” he asks nervously. 

Niall’s answering lour doesn’t console him much. “It’s Harry,” Niall says unhappily. “He’s a stubborn one.”

 _Like me,_ Louis thinks. They really are quite a pair.

“What am I supposed to do?” Louis asks sadly. 

“Find someone else?” Niall suggests.

Louis smiles half-heartedly. “But I’m always going to compare them to Harry.”

“That’s the thing about soulmates, innit,” says Niall. “They become the standard.”

“And no one else can reach that standard,” Louis finishes. 

Maybe his and Niall’s conversations are a little bit depressing, but that’s okay. They’re both young and hopeless. It feels good to be those together. 

-

They’re at a club again, him, Harry, Niall, and Liam. Zayn and Gigi have date night tonight and opted out. Liam’s chatting with the bartender who’s also a frequent member of the same gym as his and Harry’s (Louis refuses to believe that _this_ many people actually work out at the gym). Harry is dancing with a guy and Louis is doing his best to ignore it by doing shots with Niall and a girl he’s seeing named Nora. 

He doesn’t want to get too sloshed but a nice buzz would be appreciated. 

“Hey, Lou,” Niall says casually when Nora goes to the bathroom. “Are you going to pull tonight?”

He nearly spits out his drink, stunned. “What?”

Niall just blinks. “Are you going to pull tonight? Seduce a big, buff dude into taking you home and fucking you.”

“Why does everyone assume that I want someone bigger than me,” complains Louis pettily. “I mean, they’re _right,_ but what exactly about me gives off that impression?”

Niall just stares at him like _seriously?_

Fair.

“Well, _no_ , I’m not pulling today,” says Louis defensively. “In case you haven’t forgotten, I’m kind of in love with someone else.” He stops abruptly, alarm growing inside him because holy shit, he’s in love with Harry. He already knew that but saying out loud just makes it even more real. He’s never truly been in love with anyone- not any of his past boyfriends, Jamie, Seb, and Charlie back in sixth form… He really liked all three of them, and he had once thought he was in love with Seb, but looking back on it now, it wasn’t true. 

But he’s in love with his soulmate. He’s in love with Harry. 

“Well, yeah… but that doesn’t mean you can’t be with other people Louis,” Niall says patiently. “Especially if it’s just casual. Maybe that’s what you need to distract yourself.” 

The thought makes his skin itch. He swallows. “Maybe... But I don’t even know where to start. I haven’t really been looking at anyone since…” Harry. 

Niall shrugs. “Just go find someone hot at the bar and shake your ass at them, I’m pretty sure that’ll work,” he says teasingly. 

Louis rolls his eyes. He considers it, thinking of how Harry may never change his mind and how he refuses to sit around waiting for him. “Okay, if I find someone, maybe I will,” he says boldly. He sounds more confident than he feels. “I deserve to have some fun, it’s been a while for me too.” 

Niall cheers and Louis smiles, hoping it doesn’t come out like a grimace. He isn’t sure about this, but maybe it’s what he needs to put some distance between him and Harry and to prove to his mind that Harry isn’t the only person he can be good with. 

Due to Niall’s urging, Louis does make his way to the bar, plopping down in an empty stool and canning his surroundings for a potential man to flirt with. He feels nervous- it really _has_ been a while since he’s done this. At least six months. He feels rusty, like he won’t be able to wrap a guy around his finger like he used to do so easily in the past. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea? 

Before he can talk himself out of it, someone taps his shoulder. Big hands, he thinks. He shivers and turns to face a tall, broad stranger who unabashedly checks him out, brown eyes lingering on the sliver of exposed skin underneath his cropped sweater. Louis returns the onceover, appreciatively eyeing his biceps and his jawline. He seems a bit older- maybe 28? But he’s looking at Louis with barely concealed interest, leaning in closer than what’s necessary. 

“Hey,” says the man, voice deep but not as deep as Harry’s. _Don’t think about Harry._

“Hey,” he says back, curling his lips in a small smirk. He flutters his eyelashes, suddenly relieved he wore mascara and his eyes look sexy as fuck. “I’m Louis.” 

“I’m Colin,” the stranger says, sitting on the stool next to Louis’. He reaches out and places that big hand on Louis’ upper leg, fingertips brushing his inner thigh. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

“I don’t know, can you?” asks Louis innocently. It’s a dumb reply but he's too nervous to cringe at himself. 

The man smiles anyway. 

They talk a little bit and true to his word, he buys Louis something fruity and pink. It’s sweet and burns his throat and Louis really likes it, downing most of it in a few gulps because he needs the liquid courage. He’s not sure how much he likes Colin. He’s a bit arrogant- not confident in an alluring or attractive way, just plain egotistical and boastful. But Louis isn't here to date him, so he lets it go. 

He finds out that Colin works in business- a financial analyst. Louis doesn’t particularly care, just like he doesn’t care that Colin has a range rover (Harry has a range rover too so he’s not impressed) (God, he really needs to stop thinking about Harry) and goes to the gym every day. He’s sure Colin doesn’t care about his job or any of the other vague information he offered up about himself either. Their aimless chatter is meant to be meaningless. This interaction has a set destination and they both know what it is. 

The hand on his thigh tightens when he finishes his drink and then the man is looming closer, intent in his eyes. Louis’ lips part, heart racing. He’s still not entirely sure a one night stand will make him feel better, but he’s willing to try. And maybe kissing someone will actually feel good. So he leans in too, eyes on Colin’s thin lips and trying not to wrinkle his nose at his breath as they lean in closer and-

“Lou!” exclaims a voice loudly. Louis jumps, jostling Colin’s hand. He turns to see a very tense Harry walking towards them. He stops before Louis and slides an arm around his shoulders, firm and secure. Louis blinks, confused beyond words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

And… what the fuck? Last Louis saw him, he was feeling up some dude on the dance floor. He’s tipsy, that much is obvious. But there’s an edge in his green eyes, a tick in his jaw. Louis glances at Colin who he momentarily forgot about. The man is frowning openly, glaring at Harry. 

Harry steps closer, tugging Louis to his side. “Who’s this?”

“Um… Colin,” Louis supplies, still bewildered. 

“Colin, nice to meet you man,” says Harry, grinning. It looks stretched. He shakes Colin’s hand stiffly, maybe a little aggressively. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” Louis wonders, heart pounding. 

“Introducing myself,” says Harry tightly. He turns to Colin, “So how long have you two known each other?”

“We met tonight,” Colin answers flatly, looking a little bit pissed. Louis can’t exactly blame him, he has no idea what’s going on. What happened to the guy Harry was dancing with? 

“Oh cool, cool,” says Harry. He turns to Louis, “Niall’s going home with Nora and Liam’s already heading out. I’ll give you a ride whenever you’re ready.” He smiles again, dimple winking. Louis blinks dazedly. What the fuck? 

“He’s not going to need that ride,” Colin interrupts smugly. “He’s going home with me.” Louis frowns. Colin hasn’t exactly asked him so it’s kind of presumptuous for him to say that. 

Harry’s smile looks strained. “Look, buddy... Take this as friendly advice. If you want to sleep with someone, especially someone like Lou here, you need to be more upfront about it instead of assuming like a dick.” 

Is… is he jealous? 

Colin glares, close to fuming. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You weren’t even here, how do you know what I did or didn’t do?”

“I can see it in Louis’ face,” says Harry calmly. “But by all means, ask him now.”

Colin turns to Louis, still scowling, and he suddenly realizes he can’t do it. He can’t sleep with Colin, especially not when Harry’s standing so close to him and gritting his teeth, looking like he wants to punch someone, punch _Colin._ “Um… Sorry, mate, but I’m not going home with you,” he says bluntly. 

The man gapes. “What the fuck?”

“See?” says Harry smugly and Louis pinches his side. 

“I’m sorry,” says Louis genuinely. “Just not up to it tonight. You’re a really nice guy, and I’m really sorry but I just can’t.” 

Colin stands up, face turning red. Louis feels a wave of fear course through him when his glare crosses the barrier between anger and fury. “Are you fucking kidding me? You spent half an hour being a little _whore_ only to not come through?”

Louis’s mouth drops open. The next things happen very fast: Harry’s arm disappears from around his shoulders and suddenly Harry is right in front of Colin, pushing him up against the bar counter. “Don’t call him that ever again,” he says fiercely, shoving him into the counter edge angrily. “When someone tells you no, you fucking respect it, asshole.” 

His heart leaps to his throat when Colin curses, struggling out of Harry’s hold before ramming into him brutally. Harry stumbles back a bit, but he’s in Colin’s face again the next minute. Colin shoves him back, yelling and swearing like a teenager. 

“Harry,” says Louis pleadingly, reaching his hands out desperately. Harry glances at him, softening. He nods quickly, then puts his hands up, taking the higher road and surrendering to re-establish peace. 

“Okay, man. That’s enough-” he starts only to be interrupted as Colin grunts and socks him in the face. Harry staggers back, hands coming up to clutch at his face. Louis almost screams. 

“Stop!” he yells, grabbing at Colin’s arm impulsively. The man whips around to sneer at Louis, grabbing his fingers and squeezing hard. Louis winces in pain. 

“This is your fault,” he sneers. Louis’ heart thumps fearfully, unable to quell the sudden rush of terror running through him. Angry, violent men are an entirely different level of danger that Louis didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. 

Then Harry yanks Colin away, landing a punch straight into his nose. “Don’t touch him,” he snaps. Louis watches, horrified, as bouncers arrive and break up the fight. There’s blood dripping from Colin’s nose as he holds it, screaming at the staff and gesturing angrily. Harry is calmer, not putting up a fight when the two guys grab him by the arms. He apologizes for causing a scene. 

Louis snaps out of his haze and quickly rushes to Harry’s aid, explaining what happened to the men and making sure to emphasize that Harry was only defending him and that he backed away at first before Colin crossed the line. 

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting in Harry’s car and Harry is apologizing for acting out while Louis gently dabs at his- thankfully mediocre- bruise with a wet paper towel from the bathroom. Someone lent him a bandage which he secures over the damaged skin carefully. 

“Don’t,” he says exasperatedly when Harry says sorry for the third time. “You have nothing to apologize for. You stood up for me. Thank you for that.” 

Harry is looking at him with earnest eyes. “Of course I did. He’s a piece of shit, babe. I’m just glad you didn’t go home with him.”

Louis shudders. “Me too.” This is just Louis’ luck really, the first guy he tries to get over Harry with, ends up being a violent asshole with anger issues. And of course, Harry ends up showing up to save the day and now Louis is here practically nursing his wounds after Harry basically defended his honor like they’re in a fucking romance movie, and for fuck’s sake can the universe just give him a break? 

Harry squeezes his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Louis glares at him, “What did I-”

“No, not for that,” says Harry, shaking his head. “Just that it happened. You deserve better, Lou.”

 _I deserve_ **_you_** _._ “It’s okay,” says Louis. He smiles half-heartedly. “Now I can cross ‘witnessing a bar fight’ off my bucket list.”

Harry prods at his bandaged jaw. “And I can cross ‘being in a fight’ off mine.” 

Louis sighs dramatically. “My _hero_.” 

“Fuck off,” says Harry, but he’s smiling. 

Louis grins too, but his heart aches. 

-

After that disaster, Harry invites him over to watch a movie and eat ice cream and Louis accepts, eager to distract himself from everything that happened. 

He remembers somewhere while Harry is handing him the bucket of Mint Chip ice cream (which they both adore while everyone around them hates it- tasteless fuckers) with two spoons for them to share, the events leading up to the skirmish. 

Harry had seemed _jealous._

And if not jealous, then he somehow had the instinct to go check on Louis right at that moment as if he had a feeling something was wrong… another soulmate quirk? 

Both ideas make his heart skip a beat, but he’s also well aware it hasn’t actually changed anything. Harry hasn’t spontaneously declared his love for him yet and Louis isn’t holding his breath. But he still allows himself to savor it when they sit down on the couch and Harry immediately tucks him into his side, arm warm and strong around his waist and fingertips brushing the area where his soulmark is hidden. 

They completely annihilate the ice cream, laughing with flashes of stained-green tongues at the TV screen. Once again, his mind can’t help but fantasize a world where he can have this all the time along with _more._ A world where he can have lips brushing over his and loosely clasped hands and secret smiles and warm, naked skin. 

“What’re you frowning about?” Harry asks concernedly. 

“Nothing,” says Louis. Harry raises an eyebrow to express his disbelief. Louis huffs. “I’m just upset about everything.” 

Harry softens, tightening his hold on Louis reassuringly. 

“Don’t say sorry,” Louis scolds as Harry opens his mouth. The man rolls his eyes, grinning. 

“It’s okay to be upset,” says Harry. “Can I ask… are you looking for someone again?”

Louis swallows, stomach lurching. How does he answer this? “I mean, yeah… I just want to fall in love, y’know? I think I’ve realized what I had with Luke wasn’t really as _big_ as I thought it was.” It’s an honest admission. “And I know I’m twenty-four and that’s still young, but sometimes I just get so impatient.”

Harry is quiet for a moment and Louis is afraid he went too far. 

“Or maybe I’m just sexually frustrated,” he adds jokingly, maybe a little bit panicky. 

Harry bites his lip, looking serious. Louis is afraid he’s somehow said something wrong but then Harry clears his throat. “I can fix that.” 

Louis falters, heart hammering. “Um… pardon?”

He turns to look at Louis, eyes narrowed in determination. “I can fix that,” he repeats insistently. Louis gapes. 

“No offense, but what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks a bit apprehensively. “Like, you want to set me up with someone?”

Harry shakes his head. “I’ll fuck you,” he says bluntly. 

Louis' jaw drops in shock, eyes wide. 

When Harry doesn’t say, “....just kidding,” within a few moments, he stands up frantically. “What the fuck is wrong with you?" he hisses. 

Harry stands up too, brow wrinkled. “I’m offering,” he says simply. Like it’s completely normal. Completely normal to offer to fuck your best friend.

“Why?” Louis implores, near hysterical. 

He shrugs. “You said you’re sexually frustrated and I mean, I’m curious about soulmate sex, aren’t you?”

Louis just stares. 

“Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” says Harry gently. “I’m just saying, it might be good and it’s not like it’ll be weird, we’re friends. There’s no feelings between us, it’ll be completely platonic.”

Louis sours even though he expected it. He shakes his head. “That is not a good idea,” he says firmly. 

“But aren’t you curious?” Harry argues. “I’m curious!”

“Well, yes,” he admits. “But… it’s too weird.” 

“It doesn't have to be. We’re best friends, remember?” says Harry. “It’ll just be best friends getting each other off. Plus, I can admit I find you attractive, don’t you?”

 _I regularly have wet dreams about your hands and eyes, and two days ago I fingered myself to the thought of you pinning me down, of motherfucking course I’m attracted to-_ “Yeah,” he says faintly. 

“See? It doesn’t have to be weird. Again, if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine too,” says Harry with a shrug. Louis hates how unbothered he is by it all. “You can even think about it if you want.”

Louis sits back down, hugging his knees to his chest. “Like, would we kiss?”

“We don’t have to,” says Harry. Then he adds coolly, “I don’t mind.” 

Louis is literally going to self-combust. He can’t believe this is happening- can’t believe Harry is trying to proposition him as a replacement to his sucky almost-one night stand while remaining completely oblivious to the fact that Louis is head over heels for him. It’s fucking surreal. The universe is definitely a sadist, that’s for sure. 

In the end, none of that matters, because this is Louis. And this is Harry. And Louis is given a chance to be intimate with Harry once, even if it’ll never happen again, he’s going to take the damn chance. He’s too weak not to. He’s too weak for Harry Styles. “Okay,” he says quietly. 

“Are you sure?” asks Harry, softening a bit. He sits down beside Louis and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t feel pressured-”

“I’m sure,” Louis interrupts, heart pounding. “We should see what the hype’s about at least once,” he adds nervously. He turns to Harry, uncertain and a little bit insecure. He can’t believe this is happening. “How do we-”

Harry cuts him off with his lips, hands coming up to cradle the sides of his face. His grip is firm but gentle. Louis gasps into the kiss, insides melting and lips instantly parting to make room as Harry’s tongue enters his mouth. Harry kisses just like Louis thought he would and exactly how Louis likes: commandingly, fervently, and thoroughly.

He goes pliant as Harry licks into his mouth, tugging him closer until Louis’ scrambling into his lap, hands braced on his chest. The kiss is wet and urgent- filled with slick lips and muffled gasps and little whimpers that spill from Louis’ lips despite his best efforts. Harry keeps one hand framing his face and thumbing at his cheekbone, while the other slides down his neck and his side to sneak up his sweater. His hand is big and warm on Louis’ torso, palm encompassing most of his stomach when he flattens it over Louis’ belly button.

Harry bites down hard on Louis’ bottom lip, swallowing the cry it elicits and soothing the sting with a series of open-mouthed pecks, soft and unyielding. Then his lips are trailing over Louis’ jaw and down his neck, mouthing wetly as his pulse before biting down again. Louis keens, arousal burning through him like a wildfire. 

Harry sucks a mark onto his throat, dark and intentional. He presses a kiss over it before he’s moving lower and lower, red blooming across his skin like a path he maps with his teeth and tongue. He takes some time nibbling over Louis’ collarbone while the hand on his face slips over his hair and curls around the back of his neck, tilting his head backwards. 

“Can I take it off, darling?” Harry rasps, voice gritty and wrecked. Louis doesn’t have the energy to respond, knowing that if he speaks, it’ll come out as a moan, but he nods. Harry pulls his sweater up and over, painfully slow. His eyes roam over his exposed skin greedily, pupils blown with lust. Louis flushes under the appraisal especially when Harry ducks down and quickly sucks his nipple into his mouth. 

Louis’ hands scramble to Harry’s hair, pulling on the dark curls as he whines high in his throat. He feels dizzy with euphoria. Harry sucks and bites on his sensitive nub before switching to the other one. The feeling goes straight to Louis’ dick and telling by the hardness under his arse, Harry is just as affected. Louis grinds into it, seeking the friction he needs and revelling in Harry’s resulting groan. 

“Bedroom,” Louis breathes, flinching when Harry bites down on his earlobe. “ _Please_.” 

Harry hauls him up and Louis immediately locks his legs around his waist, chasing Harry’s lips and sighing in pleasure when Harry indulges him, his mouth wet and warm against his own. He digs his fingers into Harry’s shoulders, dizzy with disbelief and giddiness. 

They make it the bedroom, Harry’s arms secure around Louis’ bare middle. Then Harry’s lowering him to the mattress gently, crawling up and covering him within seconds. They snog desperately for a little longer. Harry’s hands slide under to cup his arse, squeezing and kneading the flesh. He tugs them down next, leaving Louis close to naked while he’s still entirely dressed. 

There’s something so sexy about it, especially when Harry presses his clothed dick into Louis’ thigh, sending a tremor through his body. His hips subconsciously buck up, whining again. “God, you’re so fucking desperate for it,” mumbles Harry, pressing another searing kiss to Louis’ slack mouth. It’s like he _knows_ what Louis gets off on. 

No, he corrects himself. It’s like they both get off the same stuff. Louis tests the theory by clutching the black collar of Harry’s shirt, pulling him closer until he can whisper into his ear. “Fuck me… _daddy._ ”

Harry freezes, limbs going rigid. Louis breathes heavily, staring up at Harry’s expressionless face with glassy eyes. Slowly, making sure to keep his eye contact with Harry, he smirks. 

Harry growls, lunging for him. Louis moans into the kiss, already much rougher and bite-ier than before. Harry’s hands find their rightful places around his neck and gripping his thigh. Louis whimpers particularly loudly when Harry bites down again, then the man is pulling away. He presses tender kisses down Louis’ body, lingering on his stomach where he spends a few minutes sucking marks over the smooth skin until he reaches Louis’ baby pink cotton panties. “Look at you,” he whispers, breath tickling Louis’ skin and making him shiver. He traces a finger along the edge of the fabric wonderingly. “All pretty just for me.”

“For you,” Louis echoes. He spreads his legs teasingly, arching up. Harry makes a sound, hands clamping down on his hips and pinning them down. The breath whooshes out of Louis in a heartbeat and he pants, staring down at Harry. Harry who ducks down and mouths over Louis’ bulge. Louis cries out, hips effectively prevented from rocking into Harry’s touch. “Bet you taste so sweet,” mumbles Harry. Then he pulls Louis’ underwear down to his knees with just his teeth. 

Louis’ throat dries, cock springing up- pink and leaking. Harry licks a stripe up his shaft and Louis shudders, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “Please, please daddy,” he begs, tummy heaving. 

Harry pulls his panties all the way off before turning him over gently, big hands immediately spreading his cheeks and massaging them. “You’re all smooth,” he grunts, voice thick with wonderment. Louis slides his arm under his face and bites down, eyes watering as Harry blows onto his fluttering hole. It clenches at the sensation, desperate for something to fill him up. “You don’t like being empty. Don’t you, sweetheart?” Harry coos. “I’ll take care of that, baby. I’ll take care of you.” 

Then he presses a kiss to his hole and Louis jerks, cock spurting some precome where it’s trapped between Louis’ body and the mattress. Harry licks a stripe from his perineum to his hole teasingly. Louis whines, pushing back into the touch. Harry refuses to give him what he really wants, trading between circling his rim to flattening his tongue and dragging it over the puckered skin with barely any pressure, just a ghost of what he’s holding back. 

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis pleads. A resounding slap lands on his left arse cheek making him jump, gasping out. 

“What was that, doll?” asks Harry roughly. He slaps the other cheek, eyes fixed on how it jiggles upon impact. “Don’t be naughty with me, baby. Or you won’t get to come.” 

“Daddy,” he corrects. “Please, _daddy_.”

“Good boy,” says Harry, soothing the sting by mouthing over the red flesh. Then… Finally, _finally_ his tongue dips into Louis’ hole and he nearly sobs from relief. He fucks in lazily, tongue slick with saliva and jaw undoubtedly aching as he dips in deeper and deeper. Louis continued making needy noises, unable to hold them back. Harry nips at his rim before circling it again, never staying in one place too long. He fucks in a little bit more, tongue making a loud squelching sound that sends shivers down Louis’ spine. 

All too soon, he’s pulling back. Louis’ hole clenches painfully, whining from the loss. “It’s okay, baby, I got you,” Harry whispers. He licks up Louis’ quivoring spine before sucking on his nape. He’s still fully dressed, silk shirt rubbing against Louis’ bare skin and sending goosebumps rippling down his back. 

Harry turns him over slowly, green eyes meeting Louis’ watery ones. Harry coos. “So gorgeous, baby. You’re so good for me.”

Louis just pants, too overwhelmed to respond. Harry leans back and begins stripping off his shirt, exposing his muscled chest and tattoos that stand out vividly against his paler skin. He gets off the bed to take off his pants. His cock hangs between his legs, thick and painfully hard. Louis salivates at the sheer _size_ \- he had a feeling Harry was big (he’s seen him wear skinny jeans for god’s sake), but seeing it in person is a lot more thrilling. 

Harry grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand before stalking back to Louis, eyes dark and almost predatory as they skim over his flushed body and linger on the looping signature curving up his waist. 

“Ready, sweetheart?” he asks. Louis nods eagerly, sighing in satisfaction as Harry planks over him again- big and broad and safe. He can’t help but run his hands over Harry’s chest, caressing languidly over his taut muscles and tracing the black lines of his fern and swallow tattoos. He presses a chaste kiss to the moth tattoo. He runs a finger down Harry’s soulmark too, more timid in his movements. He doesn’t want to make Harry uncomfortable by drawing attention to their soulmarks now. 

The man doesn’t react so Louis relaxes, watching with bated breath as Harry slicks up his fingers thoroughly. Louis squirms at the realization he’ll be feeling those beautiful, long fingers in him within seconds. 

Harry slides his middle finger in first, slowly but steadily. Louis moans at the feeling. Harry’s fingers are so much bigger than his own- more effective and overwhelming.

Harry starts off slowly, brows creased in concentration as he fucks in. He keeps his eyes locked intensely onto Louis’ who tries to match the eye contact but fails, eyes fluttering shut as Harry picks up speed. Little needy whimpers and gasps fall from his lips like honey but Harry clearly likes them, biting down roughly at the juncture between Louis’ neck and shoulder. “So pretty darling,” he whispers. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to bend you over the table immediately.”

Louis moans, shock and lust warring inside him. 

“I didn’t even care if everyone saw,” he continues, deep voice seeping into Louis’ insides. “But it’s for the best that I had some self-control- I don’t want anyone to see you like this…All spread out and flushed and pliant just for me.”

He adds another finger, scissoring them fervently. Louis keens, legs spreading further until he can feel a stretch in his hamstrings. “You’re so desperate for it,” says Harry, in awe. He seems mesmerized by the expressions of bliss on Louis’ face. He crooks his fingers, successfully nudging that bundle of nerves. Louis jolts, mouth opening widely. Harry immediately shoves two fingers from his other hand inside. 

“Suck,” he commands, spreading them apart so Louis’ mouth's stretches along with them. Louis suckles obediently, savoring the feel of being full in both his openings. He gags when Harry suddenly jams them further into his mouth, fingertips brushing the back of throat. He swallows around the digits, choking as Harry continues to fuck them in as he fucks into Louis below. 

“Such a _brat_ ,” Harry grunts. “Need to shut you up like this all the time.” 

Louis moans, fucking down into Harry’s fingers greedily. 

A third finger enters his hole. “You’re so _tight_ , doll,” says Harry. “Can’t wait to stretch you open with my cock.” Louis moans around Harry’s fingers, nodding eagerly. Harry replaces one of them with his thumb, unabashedly pulling at the side of his mouth until the corner of his mouth is stretched: fish hooking him. Harry’s eyes lock on his, darkening. “Fuck, your _eyes_.” 

Louis remembers he’s still wearing mascara which is most definitely running by now, splotchy underneath his glassy, wide eyes. Harry’s looking at him like he’s a wet dream come to life. He leans in close, breath tickling Louis’ skin. 

“You ready? You’re ready for my cock?” he asks, punctuating the question by smearing his leaking cockhead over Louis’ stuffed hole. Louis shivers. 

He retracts his fingers from Louis’ mouth and Louis chokes out a croaky, “Yes.” 

“You going to be a good boy for me, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Louis whimpers. “Please give it to me.”

Harry obliges, pulling his fingers out of Louis’ arse and sitting back on his heels. Louis has his eyes closed but he still hears the telltale crackle of the condom wrapper as Harry slips it on. He exhales steadily, heart racing. It’s happening, he thinks. 

His eyes flutter open when Harry settles back in between his legs, gripping his slicked up cock with one large hand. Louis blinks as Harry lines them up, slapping his hole with his covered cockhead a few times before slowly pushing in. Louis moans as each inch sinks in bit by bit. Harry pauses when he’s all the way in. His hands smooth over Louis’ heaving tummy tenderly. 

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers soothingly. 

Louis inhales and exhales slowly, wanting to be good. “Good boy,” Harry murmurs as if reading his mind. Louis preens. Harry’s cock is fully nestled inside of him: big, thick, and warm. All of the earlier urgency has evaporated and Louis can honestly say he’d be content to just lay here all night with Harry inside him. But he also wants to experience what it’s like to be fucked by Harry Styles. He’s been with so many people yet none of those women and men are his soulmate. 

That’s Louis. He’s the one who belongs to Harry in the end, whether or not he ever actually acknowledges it. He knows the truth. 

“Move,” he says softly, clenching down for encouragement. Harry grunts before pulling back. His lovely hands pull Louis’ legs over his shoulders and then he slams back in. Louis cries out, jolting up the bed from the impact. Harry doesn’t give him much time to adjust to the force- he speeds up and falls under some sort of feral trance as he rams into Louis. He’s deliberate with his thrusts- dragging them out so Louis feels every inch but still fucking in swiftly and effectively. 

He changes angles, pistoning his hips harder and rougher. Louis almost screams. His vision goes spotty when Harry hits his prostate, everything blurring into a haze of _harryharryharry._ All he can do is lie back and take it as Harry takes from him- taking and taking but still giving and giving Louis the best pleasure of his life. 

“Harry, fuck, Harry, please,” He didn’t realize he’s begging, tears streaming down his face. Harry’s eyes darken further.

He loosely rests one of his hands over Louis’ neck, large palm covering his slim neck easily. He presses down gently and Louis chokes, body jolting. “Good, so good for me,” Harry murmurs as he fucks in faster. His thrusts are getting sloppier, but still incredibly powerful- almost _animalistic_. 

The hand on his neck disappears and then Harry’s leaning into him, a look of intense focus and lust in his eyes- parted lips slick and wet. Louis knows what he’s asking for right away and he complies, stretching his lips apart widely. Harry makes a sound before connecting their lips. He rams in forcefully and spits right into Louis’ mouth. Louis comes completely untouched with a whine, spurting up his chest. A few droplets dot Harry’s glistening chest. 

When Harry’s lips leave him, a thin stream of saliva keeps them connected. 

Louis swallows the spit, laying docile as Harry chases his own release. “So good for me,” Harry breathes, running a finger through his messy release. He holds it to Louis’ mouth and his lips part inadvertently. He suckles on Harry’s finger, savoring the shiver that Harry lets out. “My little _slut_.” 

Louis mewls in response, flushing. He thinks his legs might be trembling but he keeps their tight grip over Harry’s broad shoulders, hands clutching desperately at the sheets. Harry picks up pace abruptly, changing angles. Louis squirms as he’s penetrated deeper than before. 

“That _bastard_ from the club,” Harry grunts as he slams into Louis’ sensitive hole. “Could never give it to you like this. No one can. Only me.” 

“Only you,” Louis echoes breathlessly. His vision is going fuzzy with euphoria and pleasure. 

Harry comes hard, fucking in deep inside Louis as he lets go. He buries his face in Louis’ neck, breathing hard. Louis does his best not to squirm even though his hole is oversensitive and used. Harry mouths messily over his skin. He doesn’t pull out automatically and instead sucks another path of red marks down Louis’ skin. 

He pauses at Louis’ soulmark, breathing harshly. Louis had been afraid Harry would ignore it but he isn’t. He sucks at the H messily. “It’s so big and bold,” whispers Harry. “Impossible to miss. Everyone who sees it will immediately know who you belong to. They may think they have a chance, but once they see my name branded on you- claiming you- they’ll think twice. They’ll know you’re _mine_.”

Louis shivers at the words, stunned at the ramble. Is this part of the roles they were playing? Or is it real? 

Finally, Harry pulls out. Louis hisses from the oversensitivity, legs spasming as he adjusts to the empty feeling. Harry ties off the condom and throws it into the trashcan a few feet away. Then he stands up, stretching his limbs out. Panic courses through Louis’ body. 

“Where are you going?” he stammers, terrified Harry is going to leave him even though he’s in his bed. 

“Bathroom. Getting you a rag so I can clean you up. Okay, baby?” Harry soothes gently. He encircles Louis’ slim ankle with his thumb and pointer finger and squeezes tenderly. “I’ll be right back.”

Louis relaxes. 

Harry returns with a small washcloth, gently rubbing his lax body down. Louis is physically incapable of reciprocating but Harry doesn’t mind. He wipes Louis’ cum off his chest and Louis watches in awe. 

Then he drops the rag on the floor and collapses onto the bed next to Louis, opening his arms. Happy, Louis immediately cuddles into him, tucking himself in small against Harry’s chest. Harry throws an arm around his middle- strong and secure. He’s warm and Louis has never felt so safe. 

Harry falls asleep first, breathing deeply and expression peaceful; he looks content. Louis presses his ear to his left pec, letting the steady vibrations of Harry’s heart lull him into a half-sleep. 

He has no idea how tomorrow is going to go, but for the first time ever, he has hope. Having sex with Harry was _incredible._ The best he’s ever had, easily. They didn’t have to talk things through- it was like they were connected. Soulmate sex really is that amazing. And he’s pretty sure he and Harry had a moment. Hopefully that moment means a revelation on Harry’s part. 

He shivers as he replays Harry’s voice whispering to him. _Mine, you’re mine._

_Doll. Baby. Sweetheart._

Maybe Harry really does mean them like Louis wants him to mean them. 

With those giddy thoughts, Louis finally succumbs to the call of sleep, eyes fluttering closed and breath evening out. 

-

The faint chirping of birds along with the warm light streaming in through Harry’s massive window are the first things that Louis registers as he blinks awake. He rubs at his eyes, snuffling as he sits up in bed and stretches. 

The third thing that registers is that he’s alone in bed. 

Frowning, he takes in the state of the room. All the clothes have been picked up as well as Harry’s abandoned washcloth on the floor. He looks down at the shirt he’s somehow been changed into, realizing he’s also wearing boxers. It’s a worn-out, old Rolling Stones shirt- covered in faded colors and soft against his skin. It’s definitely one of Harry’s shirts and a pair of Harry’s boxers- that much is obvious.

His heart swells at the picture he makes. He’s in nothing but Harry’s clothes after having woken up in Harry’s bed the day after Harry fucked him. Eyes widening, he rushes to the mirror hanging near the door and pulls the collar of the shirt down to admire the mess of bruises over his skin. He prods one experimentally and hisses in pain. Who knew Harry was so possessive? 

Harry!

He treads softly into the hallway, absentmindedly itching his stomach where a whole other set of marks reside. There’s an unquestionable limp in his step as he walks down the hallway and he wonders if Harry will notice and be smug about it. Guess he’ll find out now. 

He finds the other man in the kitchen. He’s fully dressed in sweats and shirt and also an apron because he’s currently busy cooking something. Louis’ throat feels dry as he feels a sudden bout of insecurity begin to infest him. 

Before he lets it fully manifest and destroy him, he clears his throat loudly. Harry spins around, blinking and mouth opening a bit. He shakes his head before grinning, “Good morning!”

Louis smiles shyly. “Good morning.”

Harry gestures to the kitchen vaguely. “I’m making eggs.”

“Want some help?” 

“No, I got it,” says Harry. “Sit down, please.” 

Louis doesn’t protest, collapsing into the seat. He winces, jerking a little bit when his ass meets the chair. Harry stiffens. He blushes. “Just a little sore,” he mumbles. 

Harry doesn’t respond beyond humming his acknowledgement. 

Louis frowns. 

It doesn’t take too long for Harry to finish up and then he’s handing Louis his plate. “Do you want to shower after breakfast?” Harry asks. If Louis couldn’t see his very obviously damp hair, he’d think Harry was asking him to shower together. 

Despite that, he is definitely in need of a good washing so he nods. Harry nods back before turning to his food. Louis blinks at him but he doesn’t notice, eyes focused on the veggie omelette as he eats. 

Louis eats some of his too, but he’s feeling a bit self-conscious about the lack of their usual chit-chat. There’s an awkward tension permeating the room and the space between them that hasn’t ever been there before. Louis isn’t stupid, he knows it was due to last night. With caution, he brings it up, “So… last night?”

Harry nods. “It was good, wasn’t it?” His tone sounds a bit monotone and it grates Louis the wrong way. 

“Yeah,” says Louis. “Guess they were right, huh.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees after a beat. He takes another bite. “Good thing we got it out of our systems.”

Louis’ heart plummets and he blinks rapidly. _Good thing we got it out of our systems._

So Harry hasn’t changed his mind. He still doesn’t want to be with Louis. 

A silence descends over the room. Harry seems to be oblivious to the way he’s just shattered Louis’ heart and any semblance of hope as he continues cutting his omelet into pieces like there’s nothing wrong. 

Louis should’ve known. Maybe it wasn’t as special as he thought- as it _felt_ to Louis. Maybe Harry has mind-blowing sex with everyone he sleeps with. Maybe he’s some kind of sex god and Louis is just another run-of-the-mill lay for him. 

He lets these bitter thoughts fester inside him as he systematically takes bites, willing himself not to burst into tears. 

“Hey,” says Harry suddenly and Louis almost slams his knee into the table from the way he instantly reacts. “I just remembered I have to meet someone for lunch so we can’t hang out today.” It comes out bluntly and unemotional. 

Louis blinks. “Oh.”

Harry looks at his plate. If Louis squints, he might almost see a flash of guilt masked in his features. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” says Louis softly. “I’ll be quick… Um, where did you leave my clothes?”

Harry points to the living room table across the room where his sweater and jeans are neatly folded. They’re less than a few feet away from the part of the couch where Harry kissed Louis the first time. It feels like a fever dream sitting here and staring at it while Harry is sitting across from him, distant and dismissive. 

Louis sighs, finishing quickly. Then he grabs his clothes and races back to the bedroom, breathing hard. He showers quickly, soaking under the burning spray and scrubbing at his skin roughly as he trembles. He tries to hold himself together but it cracks through him and soon he’s sobbing in Harry’s shower, muffling the sound with his hands just in case. 

Harry doesn’t want him. Harry won’t ever want him. He won’t ever fuck Louis again or kiss him or tell him he’s his. 

Louis is so fucking stupid. 

When he finally climbs out, his eyes are red-rimmed and puffy and his nose is stuffy. He dries himself with a soft white towel and shaky hands, avoiding looking at his reflection and the unapologetic marks dotting his skin. Harry won’t ever do that again either. 

He changes back into his clothes but keeps the boxers obviously- he’ll have to return them some other time. Harry won’t mind. Because Harry isn’t bothered by any of this. 

Louis screams into his hands, frustrated and helpless and filled with yearning and longing and aching for the one person who’s meant to love him. 

When he tiptoes out of the bathroom quietly and back outside into the main room. Harry is nowhere to be seen. However, Niall is sitting at the table eating some cereal. He looks up when Louis enters the room. “Hey, Lou,” he says brightly. “I thought you were going to go get fucked last night.” He waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously. 

Louis flinches. 

“Um.. where’s Harry?” he asks cautiously. It comes out more timid than he wants. 

Niall shrugs. “I think he went for a run. I didn’t even know you stayed over, what happened last night? Why is there a bandage on Harry’s face?”

“There was a predicament at the bar,” says Louis weakly. Harry’s gone… He left Louis without saying goodbye, probably trying to avoid him. Maybe he _knows._ Louis fidgets with his sweater, other hand tightly crumpling his soiled panties behind his back. “It got physical,” he explains half-heartedly. 

Niall raises an eyebrow, “Shit, what happened?”

“Um…” Louis bites his lip. “I think you should ask Harry. I have to go, I… uh…” He lets the sentence trail off lamely, shrinking under Niall’s confused and concerned gaze. “Bye, Niall.”

“Are you okay?” asks Niall. 

“Yeah, just in a weird mood,” he says haltingly. He hunches in on himself self-consciously. “I just have to go. And, um, tell Harry bye for me too?”

Niall nods slowly, still looking worried, but he doesn’t say anything which Louis is relieved about. “Bye, Louis. Have a good day.” 

He manages a semi-strained smile before scurrying away. He bursts out of the flat, pausing to squeeze back another wave of tears and then dejectedly walks to the elevator. 

Once again, Louis leaves Harry’s flat head over heels for him. 

Except this time he isn’t even sure if they’re still best friends. 

-

Despite the five minutes he spends pacing outside of their apartment building, trying to recover his composure and appear nonchalant and even happy, Zayn still realizes something’s wrong right away after Louis enters the flat. Maybe it’s because he makes a beeline to the alcohol cabinet and pulls out a full bottle of wine. 

“What happened?” he asks and Louis just. 

Breaks down. 

He falls to his knees, still clutching the glass bottle as the tears come pouring out. Zayn looks horrified but he quickly rushes to Louis and gathers him up. 

Somewhere between the sobbing and the nose blowing and Zayn rubbing circles into his back and trying to console him, Louis gets the story out. And by that he means he just blurts it, “Harry and I slept together.”

Zayn, understandably, does a double take. “Wait, what?”

“We slept together to see how soulmate sex is and it was amazing but Harry still doesn’t want me,” cries Louis. He curls into a smaller ball, utterly heartbroken. “He’s the one person in the world who’s meant to fall in love with me but he hasn’t and he won’t.”

“Oh, babe,” says Zayn sadly. 

“Why can’t he love me?” he wails. “Why doesn’t he feel the same? Am I not good enough.”

“Lou, you’re definitely enough,” says Zayn, looking horrified. He squeezes Louis gently. “It’s nothing to do with you, babe.” 

He allows Louis one glass of wine which he downs in a few sips, sobs relenting for long enough that he’s able to let Zayn coax him onto the couch and off the hard, cold floor. Louis returns to his fetal position, legs hugged tightly to his chest and head pressed to his knees. “I just want to be loved,” he whispers. “By my soulmate, by my Harry.” 

“I know, Lou, I know,” says Zayn quietly, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You’re going to be okay.”

Louis is the farthest from okay he’s ever been. He wants to get up, get some plates, and smash them onto the floor. He wants to open the window and scream into the open air. He wants to drink the rest of that bottle of wine so he can feel anything other than this aching heartbreak that’s clawing up his throat and engulfing him in its cruel, excruciating clutches. 

He also just wants to cry forever. 

The worst part is that the memories are still so fresh on his mind- like open wounds that don’t get the chance to recover before they’re being deepened. He can still feel the phantom touches of Harry’s gentle hands over his body, small imprints that are now ingrained in his mind, body, and soul, no matter how much he wishes he can just forget it because it _hurts,_ it hurts so bad. 

He never _can_ forget it is the thing. He knows he never will. Those memories- the memories of Harry’s hands on his skin, of Harry touching and kissing him so reverently- they’ll never fade away. They’re part of him now. They’re eternal. 

Louis will be replaying them forever- heartbreak and bliss intermingled and woven together so irrevocably in every recollection he’ll ever have of last night. 

And further, Harry will have these same recollections and memories but his won’t be tainted by pain and longing, because to him- it was nothing special. It was an experiment. A way to justifiably make a valid judgement on yet another aspect of soulmatedom that Harry regularly scorns. A test- a fucking _investigation._

Research. It was research to him. 

That is the worst part. 

-

It’s April. Louis hasn’t talked to Harry in about two weeks. 

They’ve texted a bit but neither one of them have initiated a meeting. For some reason, the universe’ adamance in pushing them together quells long enough for Louis to successfully avoid Harry for the past fifteen days. They had one almost mishap when Louis ran into Harry at Primark but he feigned getting a phone call as soon as they made eye contact and excused himself. It wasn’t subtle at all, but Harry didn’t try to call after him either. 

It’s honestly painful, going from seeing and talking to Harry all the time to barely anything. Don’t get Louis wrong, it’s better this way. He’s still hurting, hurting _bad_ \- especially after less than twenty-four hours since the ‘incident,’ Louis opens Instagram and sees Niall’s story which features a flirty Harry in the background with his arm around a giggling woman. Needless to say, he’s taking a break from social media. 

Harry’s texted him updates about his current case and sometimes Louis will like the message but he never responds beyond a simple: **_good job!_ **

It would be futile to cut off all communication with him- Louis isn’t sure he could survive that realistically, but it’s definitely diminished to an awkward correspondence rather than two best friends, or soulmates. 

To distract himself, Louis throws himself into editing, and volunteering (he’s been going every week on Saturday rather than biweekly since that fateful night), and trying to focus on himself. He continues experimenting with makeup, trying out lipstick and eyeliner with the help of Perrie and Lottie. 

Most surprisingly, he spends a lot of time _writing._

Louis hasn’t written consistently in years- always making up excuses about how he’s too busy or not good enough or that he has no ideas… he has plenty of ideas. Except, now he’s actually using them. Zayn is relieved when Louis mentions it to him, happy that Louis is doing this for himself. What he doesn’t know is that it’s really not as much of an improvement to his state as Zayn thinks. Because despite the plethora of prompts he’s had stored for ages, he still finds himself writing about the one thing that he should be avoiding: love. 

And soulmates. 

It’s not an easy transition by any means. He still gets frustrated and he’s randomly struck by bouts of insecurity and self-doubt almost daily, but he’s determined. He’s spent too long making excuses and pretending like the real reason he’s been held back in so many aspects of life was because he was afraid. 

But he’s trying to get past that now. In writing now and hopefully soon, in love. 

(He cries when he writes the introductory scene to the love interest- a man with irresistible eyes and a self-assured smirk but also with a big heart and lovely laugh). 

Zayn, Gigi, and Perrie all try to give him space, constantly sending him concerned and pitiful looks that Louis does his best to ignore. Liam too is looking at him weirdly when they walk the dogs on Saturday. Louis just continues berating him on random shit until he stops. Even his sisters have noticed something’s off during their weekly facetime calls. 

And Niall- though they haven’t really been hanging out much anymore either. It’s all very depressing. He doesn’t want to be treated like some fragile statue who’ll break if they press too hard, but at the same time… that’s kind of how he feels. 

Mostly he just yearns. 

Yes, the pining hasn’t stopped. Not even a little bit. The only difference is that now it’s from afar. How is Louis supposed to move on from his fucking _soulmate_ anyway- no one has written a book about this dilemma! Probably because it isn’t meant to happen. 

Too often, he finds himself standing in front of the mirror, pulling his shirt up to see his soulmark- unfairly bold proof that while he belongs to Harry, Harry will never belong to him as much as he wants. A small part of him wishes he could just erase it- cover it up so he wouldn’t have to see it every day as a brutal reminder of everything. A brutal reminder of Harry, his soulmate who doesn’t love him back. 

In spite of all his thinking of Harry, he’s still taken off guard when he opens the door Saturday morning, wearing his glasses, a pair of worn-out sleep shorts, and a poorly-made baby pink crew neck that says “BABYGIRL” on it in large sparkly letters (Zayn bought it for him a year ago as a joke and Louis proceeded to wear it with pride just to vex him), to see the man standing in front of him. 

Harry looks knackered, dark circles underneath his eyes and a droop in his shoulders. Louis can’t even feel embarrassed about his tattered appearance because he’s so appalled at Harry’s distress. Harry studies him openly, pausing at his crewneck, before rising to meet his eyes. He looks annoyed and hurt. “Why are you ignoring me?” he asks. 

Louis blinks. 

Harry obviously showed up to confront Louis about the events of the past few weeks and specifically what happened to them. Louis knows he can’t send him away. In lieu of responding, he pushes the door open further and steps aside to permit his entry. Harry breezes past him, hands buried in the pockets of his black sweatshirt. 

Even though Louis has been to Harry’s flat numerous times, Harry has only ever been to Louis and Zayn’s once- and it was for a brief hour after Harry expressed his curiosity of where Louis lived and Louis invited him over post-work. He had given Harry a short tour and then they sat on the balcony where Louis and Zayn have spent countless nights smoking weed under the stars, legs dangling off the edge as they talked about random things. 

It’s when Louis first admitted to Harry that he wrote for himself sometimes and had always dreamed of publishing his own novel. He had also revealed his insecurities and deep fears that he wasn’t good enough to publish- only good enough to edit other people’s works, but Harry immediately reassured him, telling Louis he’s a fantastic writer and that one day he’ll be able to buy Louis’ book in stores.

This encounter is entirely different from what Louis envisioned his second visit to look like. He insists that Harry sits down, unquestionably stalling as he offers beverages (like he’s a fucking hostess or something) and makes vapid comments about the weather. Harry makes a valiant effort to play along but eventually he sets down the glass of lemonade Louis got for him and sighs. “What happened?” he asks. 

Louis fidgets uncomfortably. He doesn’t know what to say or how to get out of the conversation without revealing anything incriminating. “I’ve been busy,” he lies. 

Harry scoffs. “Bullshit. You’ve been ignoring me, why?”

He doesn’t answer, unsure how to respond. He can’t very well tell him the truth, can he? 

Harry’s mouth curls into a frown, visibly disappointed. “Is this because we slept together?”

Louis is unable to suppress his flinch. 

“Seriously? We both agreed to it,” says Harry frustratedly. “You could’ve said no.” 

“I know,” Louis says, not bothering to mask his exasperation. “I’m not upset about that.”

“Then _what?_ ” Harry snaps, getting irritated. “And whatever it is, why are you bottling it up instead of talking to me about it?” 

_Because I can’t tell you I’m in love with you, bastard!_ He bites it back. “I can’t talk to you about this,” he says alternatively. 

Harry snorts. “I thought we talked to each other about everything?” 

“Not everything,” Louis replies, shaking his head sadly. He wraps his arms around himself protectively. “Not this.”

“What is it?” Harry pleads. “How am I supposed to help fix things if you won’t even tell me what’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing to fix,” Louis lies again. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Oh really? Then how come I haven’t seen you at all these past two weeks.”

Louis shrugs. “We’re both busy people. Your schedule’s been picking up and I’ve been busy writing.”

“Writing?” asks Harry, momentarily distracted. “Wait, no. We’ll come back to that later. Stop pretending like everything’s normal. Everything has been different since we slept together. Did it make things weird?”

“No,” Louis denies. 

“Then, what?” Harry repeats. He sounds genuinely mad. “I can’t just sit here and let you dismiss the obvious- you’re upset about something. You wouldn’t be avoiding me if you weren’t. What did I do wrong?” The last part sounds almost miserable and Louis’ heart tugs with guilt. 

“You did _nothing_ wrong,” he says softly. In fact, he did everything _right_. “I just needed space.”

“Why?” Harry urges. 

Louis shakes his head. 

“Louis, I swear to god, tell me-”

“I can’t!” he exclaims, frowning. 

“You can,” Harry argues. “ _Tell_ me.”

“No,” says Louis. “It’ll make things worse.”

Harry scoffs. “They’re already pretty shit.” He softens. “C’mon, Lou. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” Louis says honestly. He takes a deep breath, conflicted. “But I can’t tell you why I need space and if you can’t accept that, I think you should leave.”

Harry gapes, standing up. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Louis shakes his head miserably. “You can’t understand, it’s-”

“Try me.”

He drops his head to his hands, pained. Harry isn’t making this easy but he should have expected that. “I really don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?” Harry asks, sounding despaired. “You can tell me anything, seriously. I won’t be mad- I could never be mad at you. Just please-”

“I lied!” he exclaims, slapping a hand over his mouth in horror right after. He hadn’t intended to admit _that_. At Harry’s stunned expression, he continues. “I lied about dating someone- I was never with Luke, he was a coworker I had a crush on. It just came out.”

“What, why?” asks Harry, sounding confused. His brows furrow as he frowns. “Why would you lie about that?”

“Because it made things easier,” Louis says, deflating. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But you were heartbroken? You cried when you told me,” says Harry. 

Louis shakes his head. “I wasn’t crying about that.” 

“Then what-”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurts, heart-wrenching. “That’s why.” 

Harry freezes. 

Louis stands up, dam breaking as tears spill over onto his cheeks. “I’m in love with you and I’ve _been_ in love with you and you don’t feel the same and being around you hurts so much Harry, I can’t do it.” He wipes at his cheek pointlessly. “I can’t.”

Harry stares, shocked and yes, _horrified_.

Since he’s already smashed all semblance of calm into the wall, he adds, “I also sort of lied when we first met- Zayn saw you at the hospital one time and saw your soulmark and he got me to come to the club with him and see you before I decided to ignore you because that was the initial plan. Guess that would have been the easier alternative looking back on it now,” says Louis, squeezing himself tightly. “I’m sorry for lying to you but I don’t regret it.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at the floor, looking lost and confused. 

“Say something?” Louis practically begs. 

He doesn’t. 

Louis can’t do this anymore. He stands up and shuffles to the kitchen, biting his lip harshly to curb any audible sobs. “Please leave me alone,” he says finally, not glancing back in fear of what he’d find. 

He walks to the fridge, leaning his forehead against the cool metal and exhaling shakily. He breathes in deeply, trying to even his breathing. It’s a lie- he doesn’t want Harry to leave him alone. He wants reassurance and reciprocation. But he knows it’s a longshot. 

When he returns to the living room a few minutes later, Harry is nowhere to be seen. 

-

The rest of the day passes in a lag, then Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, until it’s Saturday again. A full week since Harry left him in his flat, tears staining his cheeks and his already-shattered heart now ground to dust. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. Ten thousand eighty minutes. Six hundred and four thousand eight hundred seconds. All creeping by with no trace nor hint of Harry. 

Louis didn’t expect anything else. If his deception hadn’t warned Harry off, his love declaration definitely did it. Louis hates the thought of making his soulmate uncomfortable, but it needed to happen. Louis couldn’t go through much longer of pretending like being Harry’s friend is enough for him, let alone the rest of his life. 

At breakfast, Zayn gently tells him that he and Gigi are going to see a new art exhibit at the museum, and Louis is welcome to come but Louis declines. He knows they’re worried about him, but he can’t go out and do stuff like that. Not yet. Not when he’s nowhere near healing. 

He ignores another text from Perrie too: an invitation for another manicure. 

The jealousy he feels is undeniable. Zayn and Perrie get to be loved up and happy together. Perrie and Alex too. And he’s sure Niall and Liam will be the same when they meet their soulmates one day. But not him. Because Louis doesn’t get his happy ending. 

He tries to push those thoughts out of mind. They’re depressing thoughts and he’s already too depressed. 

He spends the morning just lounging around lazily, watching Netflix, and doing another face mask because god knows the taxing events of the past few weeks have not been a blessing to his skin routine. 

At 10, there’s a knock at the door. 

He frowns, mind instantly going to last week when Harry arrived out of nowhere. It wouldn’t be him again, that much Louis knows. Maybe Zayn came back to try and convince Louis to stop lazing around. Curiously, he approaches the door and opens it a crack. No one. He opens it further, bewildered. 

With a sigh, he makes a move to go back inside when his eyes glance down and he freezes. A big, bold bouquet of flowers is resting on the floor: a mass of purple and white. Louis recognizes the beautiful purple blooms as hyacinths but he has no idea what the white ones are. Lips parting, he squats down to see if there’s a tag. He finds tw. The first details the symbolism of both flowers. The white flowers are revealed to be asphodels- flowers that represent apology, while hyacinths symbolize regret. These hinted apologies are only confirmed when he reads the second note:

_To Lou, I’m sorry. xx_

He recognizes Harry’s handwriting right away. Bewilderment courses through him- what is Harry doing? Then he sees the folded piece of papers obscured underneath the vase. Carefully wiggling them out, he sits cross-legged and opens the first. 

Blinking in confusion, he scans the familiar layout of what seems to be one of Harry’s case notes albeit a much more condensed version… Except, his eyes widen as he reads the title:

**Styles vs. Universe: The Legitimacy of Soulmates, a report**

**_By: Harry Styles_ **

His heart stops for a moment. With bated breaths, he continues reading, skipping over the table of contents which is identical to a typical lawyer case note and beginning at the start:

  * **Introduction: The recent developments in the case of _Styles vs Universe_ has inspired a revelation on behalf of one half of the parties in favor of the opposing party. The development has led to a modification of the previously established ruling in favor of the Universe. **



Louis falters, staring at the paper in disbelief. It takes him a minute to fully retain the information. What is Harry doing? And what does it mean for... He continues hurriedly. 

  * **Facts: The previously stated facts of the case have not evolved beyond the outcome, however for the sake of the report, they shall be restated:**



**Parties:** Harry Styles, attorney, and prosecutor of the clause

The Universe, defendant of the clause. 

**Other Notable Receptors:** Louis William Tomlinson, a witness in support of clause; Mr. Styles’ soulmate.

 **Claim:** The Universe proposes the legitimacy and credibility of soulmate matches (further clarified as _romantic_ bonds between two or more people assigned to the other at age sixteen by the jurisdiction and honor of Fates/Universe/Otherwise Unconfirmed Groups for centuries of history) which the prosecutor opposes on validity*. 

*The claim presented in this section has since been updated. 

**Previous Rulings:** Soulmates are not always legitimate, affirmed by prosecuting attorney, Mr. Styles, on the basis of years of accumulated evidence including real-life examples of an illegitimate soulmate bond between the attorney himself’s parents along with the supposed platonic soulmate bond between himself and witness Louis William Tomlinson. 

His former evidence was refuted on the rebuttal of romantic love once being apparent between the two parties before fading away- this clarification supports the refutation that Mr. Styles’ parents are not a valid example of his claim as their situation does not actually contradict the concept of soulmates. 

However, Mr. Styles had won the previous judgement due to the latter provided evidence, successfully proving the lack of romantic interest in his own personal soulmate bond and supporting his allegation of soulmate bonds not always being legitimate. 

Louis swallows, biting his lip roughly as he reads the next subheading: 

  * **New Ruling: Setting a new precedent, Mr. Styles has requested to appeal his own allegation, specifically requesting the repeal of a large chunk of his previously presented evidence on the basis of outdated information. It seems that Mr. Styles has contradicted his claim of the possibility and credibility of platonic soulmates due to a development in his relationship with his soulmate.**



Wait, what? 

It has become apparent that Mr. Styles is no longer fit to oppose the clause as now neither of his previously presented examples prove his claim. He is surrendering the case. 

Louis’ mouth drops open, practically skimming through the final paragraph. 

  * **Conclusion: Due to these developments, Attorney Harry Edward Styles will no longer be prosecuting on this resolution due to his newly developed bias and compromised evidence. Mr. Styles has noted to the representatives that he still affirms his allegation, however, he cannot oppose the allegation due to the aforementioned facts*.**



*The decision was made peacefully by both parties who have come to an agreement. 

And that’s it. Louis blinks, heart racing. The words blur in his mind, playing on loop. Harry said neither one of his previously presented examples are accurate anymore, including their own relationship- was he talking about Louis having unrequited romantic feelings for him and that’s the reason the example is compromised or did he mean… 

He drops his head into his hands, hopelessly confused and conflicted. In spite of his skepticism, bright, potentially naive hope thrums through his veins for the first time in a long time. He could be reading this all wrong, he knows. 

But why else would Harry leave this for him? 

Louis needs to call him. Or should he? Should he wait a while? Ignore him? Go inside and cry a little bit more? 

He needn’t have worried because a voice rings through the hallway. “Louis,” says the very familiar deep drawl of the one person Louis has been dreaming of days. He turns to see Harry standing at the end of the hallway, looking hesitant and unsure with his hands behind his back. 

“Harry,” he breathes. 

Harry approaches him cautiously, pulling his hands to his front and revealing another bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers. An array of bright, beautiful yellow daffodils. 

Louis’ favorite flowers. 

He stops in front of Louis, crouching down to his level cautiously. Louis doesn’t speak- it’s Harry’s turn to talk now. 

Setting the bouquet next to the abandoned bunch of apology sprigs, he matches Louis’ crossed legs and bites his lip. “I want to apologize for being a coward,” Harry says. 

Louis' lips part in surprise and he stills, expectant. 

Harry ducks his head, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry for disappearing last week without doing the right thing and talking about it.”

Louis opens his mouth but Harry shakes his head. “Wait, let me get this all out, first,” he insists. Louis nods slowly, apprehensive but hopeful. 

“You know I’ve never believed in soulmates- I’ve never had any reason to until I actually met mine, and even then I was so convinced that it wouldn’t work out, too cynical and strong headed that I refused to even consider it,” says Harry. “But…”

His heart skips a beat. Is he-

Harry meets his eyes, “We became friends and started hanging out more and the more time that passed, the harder it became to ignore that I was starting to feel things for you beyond platonic feelings. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I fell in love with you too.” 

Louis stares- shock, disbelief, and happiness all weaving together inside him, heart nearly bursting. Tears gather in his eyes. “But...” His voice trails off. 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says sadly. “I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want to accept it especially after I spent so long trying to convince everyone that I didn’t need my soulmate and I’d settle down with someone else, someone the universe didn’t ‘pick’ for me.”

He clears his throat. “You know, I called my mom the other day and for the first time ever, I asked her about my dad- I haven’t seen him since the divorce because I took my mom’s side. But I asked her why her soulmate match wasn’t true. She told me it’s not that it wasn’t true- they just grew up to be people who wanted different things. When they first got together, they were completely in love and they remained in love for a really long time. She told me the universe giving you a soulmate was giving you a chance at love with someone special, but that didn’t necessarily mean it lasts forever.” 

“Like people who die right after meeting their soulmates,” Louis murmurs. He’s moved to hugging his knees to his chest in a protective gesture. 

“Yeah,” says Harry. He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways, that got me thinking about soulmates more. I still think soulmates aren’t inherently romantic but I do think there’s a reason that most of them do end up together romantically- it’s kind of a shitty revelation considering the proof is all around us but it feels important. I’ve just been so stubborn all these years, maybe a little bit pessimistic. I hated that it felt like the universe was taking a choice away from you because I always felt like love and loving someone was something you can’t control, while at the same time being a choice- as in you choose to pursue and be with someone. I thought soulmates took away that choice.” 

Louis nods. He was the same. 

“But turns out I’ve had it all wrong. Soulmates- these marks- they may tell us who our soulmates are but they aren’t a condemnation like I always thought. It’s a sign, that’s all it is. But you can ignore signs too. Or you can choose to follow them. It’s still a choice, _soulmates_ are still a choice,” says Harry, slowly speaking more and more urgently. He leans in close and grabs Louis’ hand, pressing kisses to his fingers. “And I choose you.” 

Louis can’t stop the tears from dripping down his face. 

Harry must get the wrong idea because he frowns. “If you’ll have me… ”

With a small noise, Louis launches himself into Harry, throwing his arms around his neck and clinging to him. Relief and happiness flow through him in waves and he might be dreaming, but it almost feels like his soulmark is tingling too. Harry hugs him back just as hard, resting his head on Louis’ and encircling his waist tightly.

“I’m sorry for being a stubborn bastard and making you hurt,” Harry whispers, voice laden with heavy regret. “Niall yelled at me for nearly an hour a couple of days ago, telling me to get my shit together.” 

Louis laughs wetly. He pulls back but stays in Harry’s lap, sobering up a little bit. “I forgive you, I do.” He pauses hesitantly. “But… it really hurt me when you dismissed us sleeping together so bluntly.”

Harry grimaces, hands gently coming up to wipe Louis’ tears. He cups his face, gazing at him with serious eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. It was incredible, believe me. You’ve ruined me for all other people- I tried to take a girl home a few days after and couldn’t go through with it because it felt wrong. I don’t want to be with anyone like that but you.”

Louis blushes, remembering Niall’s Instagram story. He’s relieved Harry didn’t erase their intimacy by replacing it with another hook-up, but he’s still upset. “You went on a run to avoid me,” he accuses. Harry winces, looking embarrassed. 

“Because I couldn’t lie to you anymore,” he says. “It felt wrong.” 

“Maybe because it was wrong,” Louis snarks, raising his eyebrows. 

Harry pouts. “You lied to me too! For much longer!”

Louis groans. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry about that, believe me, and very mortified.” 

“I did wonder why Zayn stopped calling you ‘Blue’,” Harry muses, shaking his head slightly. He narrows his eyes. “Who's Luke anyway?” he adds, sounding unjustifiably irritated. 

“My coworker who I had a crush on for a really long time,” says Louis, savoring the way Harry scowls at that. He’s _jealous_ , Louis realizes gleefully. That’s a thing he gets to experience now. Harry’s a person he gets to experience now too, well more than he already has. “Don’t worry, all those feelings evaporated after I met you.”

Harry grins smugly at that. “Not going to lie,” he says. “I was really mad when I found out you were lying, but then I thought about how if you hadn’t lied, I might not have felt okay being friends with you and then where would we be?”

Louis smiles a little bit. “I dunno about that, feels a bit inevitable to me.”

Harry shrugs. “Well, I can be pretty stubborn…”

“Yes, we’ve definitely established that,” Louis teases, dodging Harry’s attempt to tickle him. “Asshole,” he mutters.

“Brat,” Harry retorts fondly. They fall into a comfortable silence in which Louis runs his hands through Harry’s hair. He had missed it. 

“When did you know?” he asks curiously. “That you loved me?”

“Valentine’s Day,” says Harry sheepishly. “I think I always had a feeling it was inevitable, especially when the first time I saw you I almost had a heart attack.” Louis blinks, he had recalled Harry as not being affected at all. Maybe he just hid it better. “But Valentine’s Day was when it hit me that I love spending time with you for a different reason than us being friends. I was so in denial, I stupidly got drunk to distract myself from thinking about it and ended up saying all that stuff to you anyway.”

Louis’ eyes widen, “You remember?”

Harry groans, hiding his face. “Yeah.” 

“Oh my god,” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “I think that’s when I realized too, but I had been suspecting for much longer.” 

“It’s impossible not to fall for you, Louis,” Harry says frustratedly. “I tried so hard, but nothing could stop me. It only got worse those few weeks in March when I was working like crazy- you kept being so lovely and making sure I was eating and drinking and I kept thinking, fuck, I’m in love with him.”

Louis blushes. “Well I was being lovely because _I_ kept thinking, fuck, I’m in love with him.” 

Harry grins at him, wide and affectionate. He leans in to press their foreheads together, lowering his voice. “Then I offered to sleep with you because I’m a selfish bastard who couldn’t handle the thought of not getting to fuck you and take care of you at least once in my life,” he mumbles. 

Louis blushes harder. “Except you could have been fucking me and taking care of me for the rest of your life by then already if you hadn’t been so stupid.” 

Harry groans, squeezing Louis’ waist. “Don’t say that, I _know_ ,” he says miserably. “I’m a fucking idiot, we’ve established that. Please let me make it up to you?”

“Make up for…?”

“Everything. To thank you for being so lovely for all those weeks I was busy and to make up for being a dick for all the later weeks,” says Harry quietly. He brushes their noses together, sliding one hand underneath his sweater and petting at his soulmark gently. Louis shivers. “Let me take you… please, doll?”

Louis swallows, insides melting into pure goo. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” says Harry easily, squeezing his waist. Louis ignores how his one hand covers so much skin. “Of course I do.”

“Even though you said you weren’t planning on settling down anytime soon?” wonders Louis. “I’m not saying we won’t take it slow, but this is _real_ for me Harry. I want this to be a forever thing.” 

“It is a forever thing,” Harry mumbles. He bumps their noses again. “The only reason I said that is because I’ve never been with someone who I’ve wanted to settle down with. But that was before you.”

Louis relaxes, reassured by the conviction in Harry’s words. 

“I want a life with you,” says Harry quietly. Louis pictures it. Him and Harry, together and so in love. A home of their own, a shared bed, and maybe one day… kids. At first when Harry said he didn’t see himself settling down anytime soon, Louis had processed that as him not being super excited about having kids- at least, not to the extent Louis is. However, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Harry loves kids. He constantly asks Louis to tell him about his younger siblings and whenever they see a baby on the streets, Harry softens right away. It used to make him sad. Now it just makes him giddy. 

“Me too,” he replies, poking Harry’s dimple gently. “I want you and everything you’ll give me.” 

“So will you let me take you out then? I promise I’ll give you everything, baby. Make you the happiest,” Harry swears, still stroking his soulmark lazily. 

“Yeah,” says Louis shyly. He can’t believe this is happening. Harry is asking him out. Harry is in love with him. Harry _loves_ him. “Just a reminder I don’t put out on the first date.”

Harry laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. His eyes focus on Louis’ lips as he licks his own. “Can I still kiss you?” 

Louis nods, nearly sighing in pleasure as Harry leans in to lick the seam of his lips before they part and he kisses him deeply. His movements are slow and unhurried yet deliberate and thorough. A hand comes up to cup his jaw, tilting his head back for better access. Louis makes a sound and Harry bites down on his lip. 

They make out for a little bit longer, Louis still in Harry’s lap and Harry holding him tightly, like he's never going to let go. It occurs to Louis that they’re sitting in the hallway with the door to his flat still wide open. He mentions it to Harry and the man instantly pulls him up, muttering something about not wanting anyone to see Louis flushed and pliant which makes Louis flush even more. They gather the flowers and case notes and take them inside too. 

“Very creative by the way,” Louis says dryly, gesturing to the papers which he sets down on the living room table. 

Harry grins. “I stalled doing my actual work to write that up for you, just so you know.”

“Well, it was sweet,” says Louis meaningfully. “Thanks for the flowers too, I love them.”

Harry holds up the daffodils. “I forgot to say, daffodils symbolize-”

“New beginnings,” Louis finishes softly, glancing at the soft yellow buds. He smiles at Harry. “I know.” 

-

Contrary to what many may think, Louis and Harry’s first date is kind of a mess. Harry takes him to a fancy place and they both dress up. The food is delicious but everything progresses with much difficulty. It’s awkward is the thing- both of them too anxious about potentially messing everything up before it has the chance to fully start that they stumble through conversations and fumble their way till dessert. It’s like they didn’t go through nearly four months as friends and are still getting to know each other. 

However, it doesn’t really end up mattering because it’s Louis and it’s Harry and they’re _soulmates_ which is all that’s important. It doesn’t matter because somewhere while they’re waiting for the crème brûlée they ordered to share, Louis looks up to see Harry gazing at him with so much tenderness and warmth, all insecurities and nervousness vanishes. 

So during dessert, Harry comes to his side of the booth to sit next to him. He puts one big, warm hand on his thigh, tethering him in place as he feeds Louis dessert. Louis is taken off guard by how much he enjoys that. Harry pays the check and then drives Louis home, holding his hand over the console. He kisses him softly and meticulously in front of the building before bidding him goodbye, promising to see him soon. 

And Louis smiles dopily for the rest of the night. 

After that test-run and as April turns to May, things begin to even out. In fact, it pretty much returns to the way things were between them pre-disaster, where they were best friends. Except with a few key differences… 

Harry smears his precum over Louis’ closed lips, cursing under his breath. Louis remains still, wanting to be good as Harry tightens his grip on the back of his neck, positioning him as he wants. His hold is firm but gentle, an unwavering tether to ground Louis when he’ll undoubtedly go a little fuzzy like he always does when he sucks cock. He suppresses a whine when Harry grips his cock and uses it to slap at Louis’ lips messily. 

“Open,” he commands. Louis’ lips fall apart and he opens wide. 

Harry sticks a thumb into his mouth, pressing it into the corner of his mouth so it’s poking into his cheek. He lines his cock up to Louis’ lips. He feeds it in slowly until half of his cock is resting in Louis’ mouth. Louis hollows his cheeks and keeps his tongue flat, licking at the underside of Harry’s length. Harry’s hips stutter and Louis preens, always pleased to be reminded that he can affect Harry just as much as Harry affects him. “Ready, doll?” says Harry softly. 

Louis nods, savoring the feel of being stuffed with cock and Harry’s thumb. 

The first thrust is slow, allowing Louis the time to adjust. His jaw is already aching but he loves the feeling- the sore reminder that will linger for the next twelve hours that he made Harry feel good. Harry pushes in further, chasing the warm, wet feeling. Louis hums around his cock, knowing the vibrations drive his boyfriend absolutely insane. 

“ _Fuck,_ baby,” groans Harry predictably, thrusting in faster. His thumb disappears which is just as well because Harry’s cock is already so _big_. 

Louis relaxes his throat muscles as Harry fucks deeper into his mouth. The hand on the back of his neck squeezes and he moans around Harry’s cock, blinking away tears in his eyes. Harry shoves in deep, the head of his cock brushing the back of his throat. Louis gags, muscles contracting. Harry groans again. 

“Good boy,” he mumbles. He retracts a bit before ramming back in, holding it for longer this time. Louis chokes, lips stretched wide and breathing cut off. Harry grinds into it a little bit before pulling back out entirely. Louis coughs, eyes watery and throat wrecked. 

“So good,” Harry praises, thumbing at his nape tenderly. “Look at me.”

Louis complies, blinking up at Harry’s face obediently. He’s kneeling on the floor, hands clasped behind his back as he services his boyfriend. Harry jacks off a bit more before sliding his cock in again, not bothering to push in slowly this time. 

He picks up pace, coasting into a faster but still deliberate rhythm that has Louis slipping into that fuzzy mindset where everything disappears except the weight and taste of Harry’s cock in his mouth and the steady pressure of his palm against Louis’ neck. 

Subspace. His eyes flutter shut and he goes fully pliant, mouth slackening for Harry to take, take, take. Harry makes a guttural sound, driving in harder and harder. Louis knows he’s gagging but he’s not fully aware of it- mind humming and endorphins swimming through his body faster than the speed of light. All he can focus on is the intense feeling of _pleasure_ racing through his veins. 

He’s barely aware as Harry comes deeply down his throat. He slumps in contentment. However, apparently Harry isn’t finished, because he pulls out to release the remainder of his cum over Louis’ sore lips and chin. Louis mewls quietly as gentle fingers prod at his sore cheeks soothingly, collecting the excess cum before nudging his lips. He opens automatically, suckling on Harry’s long fingers until they’re clean. 

“So good, kitten,” Harry coos. “Did so well.”

He nearly topples over when Harry’s grip disappears from his neck, but Harry catches him gently, pulling him into a gentle kiss. There’s barely any pressure, just slick lips brushing tenderly. Harry licks into his mouth, tasting himself as he holds Louis to his chest and rubs back as well. “ _I love you_ ,” he whispers. 

“Love you too,” Louis slurs with a noticeable rasp, nuzzling into Harry’s neck and snuffling. Eyes blinking open slowly, his vision adjusts and focuses to meet Harry’s adoring stare. Harry kisses his forehead. 

“Let me take care of you,” he mumbles, before hoisting Louis up. Louis slides his legs around Harry’s waist, falling lax as Harry slowly moves to the bed a mere few feet away. The familiar environment of Harry’s room focuses in around him as he blinks blearily around the room. Harry lays him on the mattress delicately, brushing another kiss onto his lips. 

One by one, his shirt, then shorts, and panties are all pulled down until he’s completely bare and spread out, cock slapping up to his tummy. Louis whines at the change in temperature. “I’ve got you,” Harry murmurs before stripping his shirt and reaching for the nightstand. “Looking so pretty just for me, baby.” 

Louis’ eyes flutter closed again, ears perking up as he hears the telltale sound of the lube cap opening. He shivers when Harry runs a hand over his flushed chest, fingertips lingering on his soulmark which both of them have grown to adore. “Mine,” he whispers reverently. 

“Yours,” echoes Louis. He’s been unbearably hard since Harry suggested facefucking and Harry’s blatant possessiveness isn’t helping matters. Thankfully, Harry always makes good on his promises to take care of Louis- both in the bedroom and out of it. 

He fingers Louis slowly and languidly, pressing kisses up and down his body as he eases his middle and pointer fingers in and out. He lingers on Louis’ stomach, biting and nipping at his skin before soothing the sting with his tongue. There’s no urgency in his movements and Louis finds himself relaxing even further, trusting Harry to take care of him. 

Harry slides in another finger, transitioning into scissoring his fingers but still going slow and gentle. Louis can feel every single inch as they drag in and out and stretch against his walls. God, he loves Harry’s hands. And if he had it his way, they’d be on or in him all the time. “So sweet,” murmurs Harry quietly, eyes fixed on the drag of his fingers into Louis’ hole, completely entranced. “So small and sweet for me.” 

Louis whimpers, shuddering as Harry picks up the pace. 

He isn’t sure what Harry’s going to do but when he pulls his fingers out before slicking his cock up with lube (they’ve decided as optimistic and devoted soulmates, they’re okay fucking bare), he’s not opposed. Harry lines up in between Louis’ legs and pins his arms down above his head with a single hand wrapped around his slim wrists. He stuffs two fingers from his other hand into Louis’ awaiting mouth before slowing pushing in. 

Louis squirms at the feeling- big, thick, and warm. When Harry’s all the way in, he pauses. Louis wraps his legs around his waist and breathes in and out, reveling in the feeling of being full even if Harry isn’t currently doing anything except running dark eyes over every part of him hungrily. His skin is glistening with sweat and his eyes are dark with arousal and Louis finds himself admiring Harry’s beauty- something that happens far too much but Louis isn’t ashamed. 

It becomes clear Harry feels content with just waiting, nestled into Louis fully so Louis channels his energy into suckling on the fingers in his mouth attentively, whimpering when Harry spreads them. His cock throbs, desperate for some friction but he knows that he won’t be satisfied unless Harry decides he can be. His eyes trail over Harry’s biceps and strong forearms, heat in his belly coiling as he imagines certain scenarios. 

Testing his limits, he suggests it, “Next time you should fuck me up against the wall.” It comes out almost unintelligible since his mouth is full but Harry somehow interprets it- maybe another soulmate thing? 

Harry raises an eyebrow, eyes dark and predatory. “Who says I can’t do that now?” 

Louis’ cock throbs again. Fuck. 

Harry smirks, retracting his fingers from Louis’ mouth and gripping his hips tightly. Louis’ heart leaps to his throat as Harry begins to stand up. He sputters, tightening his hold around Harry’s waist and throwing his arms around Harry’s shoulders frantically. Harry’s arms come around his middle- one hand cupping him by the back of the neck. Louis instantly relaxes, exhaling deeply. “Trust me,” Harry whispers. 

“I do,” says Louis thickly. And he does trust Harry to pick him up while he’s impaled on his cock- it’s just nerve wracking either way. 

Harry hums. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” he murmurs. “And you’d _beg_ for it either way. My perfect little slut.” 

Louis nods, unable to speak. 

Harry backs him into the wall, connecting their lips feverishly. Louis mewls, arching up against the hard wall behind him and moaning because the movement jostled him into rubbing down onto Harry’s cock. “Fuck, _daddy_ ,” he pleads. Harry shoves him back farther, lifting Louis up with pure strength before slamming up into him. Louis shudders, going pliant.

It’s always mesmerizing- the way Harry seems to lose it when he starts thrusting, going almost animalistic and feral and he rams into Louis who is sure he’ll be limping after this. Not to mention, the iron grip Harry has on his hips is definitely going to leave some bruises. The thought makes him keen. 

However, in spite of his roughness, Harry is _always_ careful with him. When he licks into Louis’ gaping mouth- he’s forceful but still overwhelmingly gentle. “My baby,” he murmurs into Louis’ slack mouth, biting down on his bottom lip. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” says Louis in reply, lining the statement with as much raw emotion as he can muster. “I love you so much.” He exhales shakily, moaning as Harry hits his prostate. “And I love your cock.” 

Harry snorts. 

He mouths at Louis’ jaw and neck for a little bit, sucking at his pulse point until he’s shuddering through his release. He clenches down harshly on Harry’s cock when he shoves in. Harry groans and then he’s coming too, filling Louis up with his cum. He clings to Harry’s neck desperately as Harry slowly lowers them to the floor. Louis ends up in his lap, wincing from oversensitivity as Harry slowly pulls out. 

He hisses when Harry’s fingers feel around his rim experimentally, pushing some of the leaking cum back into his hole. “Caveman,” he mutters, squirming away from the touch. 

“Only for you,” Harry drawls. 

Louis presses a chaste kiss onto Harry’s soulmark, skin sweaty and warm beneath his lips. Then he nuzzles into Harry’s neck, mouthing at his throat lazily. Harry pets his hair sweetly, resting his chin on Louis’ sweaty hair.

“You’re perfect,” he says admiringly. 

“Perfect for _you_ ,” Louis corrects softly, "and you’re perfect for me.”

He feels Harry’s smile press against his hair, brushing another kiss over the same spot. 

-

Louis gets out of a meeting with an author and returns to his desk, slouching in his seat. He’s got an hour left of work but he has no energy whatsoever so be productive for it. To make matters worse, it’s really bloody _hot_. The air conditioning in the building is subpar at best and nowhere near adequate for the sweltering mid-July heat. 

He just wants to be _home,_ preferably with his doting and lovely boyfriend/soulmate who will gladly massage his sore shoulders and maybe even run him a nice bath. Maybe he’ll join him in that bath… Louis sighs longingly. One hour.

A loud burst of laughter provides an easy distraction from his misery and he glances up to see Luke along with a woman he’s never seen before. She’s pretty with smooth dark hair and light brown skin. Tall and slim. A gorgeous smile. 

They’re grinning shyly at each other, almost dopily. Louis observes discreetly as they continue to chat, heads bent close together and grins never faltering. Luke rests a hand on her waist, casual yet deliberate. She ducks her head, whispering something. Luke’s grin grows and he whispers something back. They keep smiling at each other almost stupidly. 

Yup, definitely soulmates. 

Louis can’t help but giggle at the realization. Luke has found his soulmate! And Louis doesn’t care at all!

Who knew he’d ever be at this point? If you told his past self from six months ago that he wasn’t devastated about Luke finding his other half, he’d never believe it. But here he is. He’s _happy_ for Luke, really happy. 

It all feels like coming full circle. Like resolution to a good novel. 

Louis always knew he was meant to be the witty and alluring protagonist in a romance novel with a fantastic character arc and charming love interest. It’s nice to be right. 

His phone buzzes and Louis grabs it swiftly, eager for another interruption or better yet, his real-life charming love interest…

A smile of his own breaks out on his face, pride igniting inside him as he reads a text from **Harry <3**:

**Won the case!!! :)))**

**Celebration sex tonight 🥂**

He wishes he could be there to kiss Harry senseless, congratulating him in person for successfully winning his first official case as the representing attorney (protecting a refugee family). But he can’t be there physically so he settles for a text:

**_So fucking proud babe!!!!! This is what you deserve after all your hard work!!!_ **

**_I love you :)_ **

**love you more kitten, see you soon :)**

His heart flutters, the giddiness he feels whenever Harry expresses his love for him still apparent even after these months. He’s pretty sure the novelty will never wear off. Or at least, that’s his theory. 

Good thing he has the rest of his life to test it out. 

-

_Before we knew what love was, my soul knew yours_

**Author's Note:**

> The case notes presented in this fic are loosely based on real-life case notes but it’s been extremely modified to fit the purposes of the story as well as very vague because otherwise, it’d get boring. It is probably a little too convoluted because I wanted it to look legit so if you skimmed over it, don't feel bad. Also, excuse any significant inaccuracies, I am not a lawyer :)
> 
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